If  ill  III  Illl 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


By  George  Haven  Putnam 


A  Memoir  of  George  Palmer  Putnam 

A  Prisoner  of  War  in  Virginia  (1864-5) 

Abraham  Lincoln 

The  Censorship  of  the  Church  of  Rome 

Books  and  Their  Makers  during  the  Middle  Ages 

Authors  and  Their  Public  in  Ancient  Times 

The  Question  of  Copyright 

The  Little  Gingerbread  Man 

The  Artificial  Mother 

Authors  and  Publishers 


Memories  of  My  Youth 


1844-1865 


By 


George  Haven  Putnam,  LittD. 

Late  Brevet  Major,   176th  Regt.,  N.  Y.  S.  Vols. 

Author  of    "Memoir  of   G.  P.  Putnam,"    "Life   of   Lincoln/ 
"Books  and  Their  Makers,"  etc. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New   York  and  London 

ttbe   fmfcfcerbocfcer  press 

1914 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1914 

BY 

GEORGE    HAVEN    PUTNAM 


Ttbe  Itnfcfeerbocfeer  press,  Hew 


FOREWORD 

PR  the  labour  of  shaping  for  the  press  the  present 
volume,  I  am  under  obligations,  as  has  been  the 
case  with  the  several  books  that  preceded  it,  to 
the  skill  and  devoted  service  of  my  home  secretary,  my 
daughter  Ethel.  My  eyesight  has  always  been  restricted, 
and  as  since  1864  my  writing  arm  has  been  disabled,  I  am, 
in  preparing  material  for  the  press,  dependent  upon  the 
help  of  others. 

My  record  of  the  events  of  the  earlier  years  is  based  in 
part  upon  some  home  letters  of  my  own  which  had  for 
tunately  escaped  destruction,  and  in  part  upon  my  memory 
of  conversations  with  my  father.  It  is  quite  possible 
that  for  some  portions  of  the  narrative  which  were  not 
covered  by  such  letters  or  conversations,  my  memory 
may  be  at  fault  in  regard  to  one  detail  or  another,  but 
I  hope  that  the  oversights  will  not  be  found  important. 

If  the  time  and  the  strength  are  spared,  it  is  my  purpose 
to  continue  this  narrative  later  with  a  record  of  the 
succeeding  half -century,  under  the  title  of  Memories  of  a 
Publisher. 


G.  H.  P. 


NEW  YORK, 

January  j,  1914. 


iii 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

FOREWORD       ........  Hi 

INTRODUCTORY I 

CHAPTER 

I.    A  FIRST  GLIMPSE  OF  ENGLAND,   1844-1848  6 

II.    THE   PUTNAM   FAMILY   MIGRATES   TO   "THE 

STATES,"  1848 17 

III.  A  SECOND  GLIMPSE  OF  ENGLAND,  1851         .  28 

IV.  A  HOME  IN  NEW  YORK      ....  41 
V.    THE  TROUBLES  OF  1857      ....  67 

VI.    I  AM  SENT  ABROAD 93 

VII.    A  STUDENT  IN  GERMANY     .         .         .         .116 

VIII.    A  TRAMP  TO  GOTTINGEN     .         .         .         .138 

IX.    GOTTINGEN          ......  160 

X.    WAR  TIMES 200 

XI.    I  BECOME  A  SOLDIER          ....  220 

XII.    THE  INVASION  OF  LOUISIANA      .         .         .  241 

XIII.  I  RE-ENLIST  FOR  THE  WAR         .         .         .  280 

XIV.  THE  RED  RIVER  CAMPAIGN         .         .         .  299 


vi  Contents 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 


XV.    THE  SHENANDOAH  VALLEY  .  .     344 

XVI.    THE  BATTLE  OF  CEDAR  CREEK  .         .         -349 

XVII.    A  PRISONER  IN  VIRGINIA    ....     382 

XVIII.    THE  END  OF  THE  WAR       .         .         .         .     425 

INDEX 443 


Memories  of  My  Youth 


Memories  of  My  YoutK 


Introductory 

I  HAVE  completed  the  seventh  decade  of  my  life,  the 
period  in  which  preparation  and  anticipation  are  suc 
ceeded  by  reminiscence.  My  children  have  from  time 
to  time  called  upon  me  to  tell  them  about  things  which  have 
happened  to  me,  and  I  am  writing  out,  or  rather  I  am 
dictating,  these  reminiscences  for  the  purpose  of  preserv 
ing  a  record  of  such  matters  as  I  can  remember  and  as 
are  likely  to  present  any  continued  interest  for  family  or 
for  friends.  The  events  of  my  life  have  not  been  impor 
tant  in  any  large  sense  of  the  term,  but  my  experiences, 
while  similar  to  those  of  many  other  American  citizens  of 
my  generation,  have  been  of  interest  to  myself,  and  may, 
I  trust,  possess  some  value  for  those  who  are  interested  in 
the  personality  of  the  writer. 

The  record  of  the  family  ancestry  has  been  set  forth, 
as  far  as  the  data  were  available,  in  a  biographical  sketch 
of  my  father  published  some  years  back,  and  I  will,  there 
fore,  repeat  here  only  the  more  essential  facts  which  are 
needed  to  make  the  present  narrative  complete  in 
itself. 

The  family,  whose  earlier  name  was  Puttenham,  had  its 
English  home  in  the  County  of  Buckinghamshire.  I 
understand  that  the  name  Puttenham  was  itself  a  develop- 


2  Introductory 

ment  from  the  name  Putt,  which  is  still  common  in  the 
north  of  Friesland,  and  that  my  ancestors  came  over  with 
the  Angles  and  Jutes  in  the  time  of  Hengist  and  Horsa. 
The  earliest  of  the  English  ancestors  of  whom  I  find  record 
was  Nicholas  Puttnam  or  Puttenham,  of  Penne,  in  the 
County  of  Bucks,  who  was  born  in  1523.  George  Putten 
ham,  whose  Art  of  Poesie  made  him  known  among  the 
litterateurs  of  the  Court  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  also  a 
resident  of  Penne,  and  appears  to  have  been  a  cousin  of 
Nicholas.  The  genealogy  of  the  Putnam  family  of  New 
England,  now  in  course  of  publication  by  Eben  Putnam 
of  Salem,  Massachusetts,  will  make  clear  which  of  the 
descendants  of  Nicholas  joined  his  fortunes  to  those  of  the 
Puritans  who  migrated  to  Massachusetts. 

The  branch  from  which  my  father  was  descended  made 
its  home  in  Danvers.  My  father's  father,  Henry,  was 
born  in  Boston,  and  having  been  graduated  from  Harvard, 
was  admitted,  about  1806,  as  a  member  of  the  Massa 
chusetts  bar.  Henry  married,  in  1807,  Catherine  Hunt 
Palmer  of  Boston.  Her  father  was  Joseph  Pearse  Palmer, 
who  was  the  son  of  General  Joseph  Palmer.  The  latter 
had,  in  1774,  been  chairman  of  the  Committee  of  Safety. 
He  took  part  with  the  " Indians"  who  threw  overboard 
from  the  British  brigs  the  -tea  on  which  the  Colonists 
refused  to  pay  the  tax  assessed  by  Parliament,  and  I 
understand  that  it  was  at  Palmer's  house,  on  the  shore  of 
the  lower  bay,  that  the  so-called: " Indians"  came  together 
on  that  eventful  night.  Joseph  Palmer  served  through 
the  Revolutionary  War  with  credit,  and  retired  at  the 
close,  with  the  rank  of  Brigadier-General.  General 
Israel  Putnam,  and  his  cousin  General  Rufus  Putnam, 
were  cousins  of  Henry  Putnam's  grandfather.  The 
record  of  the  former  in  the  Colonial  wars  and  throughout 
the  Revolutionary  contest,  from  Bunker  Hill  to  Bur- 
goyne's  surrender  (at  which  time  he  was  disabled  by 


Introductory  3 

a  stroke  of  paralysis),  is  a  part  of  the  history  of  the 
country. 

The  career  of  the  younger  General,  Rufus  Putnam, 
during  the  Revolutionary  War,  while  perhaps  not  so 
important,  was  creditable.  Rufus  had  made  a  study  of 
military  engineering,  and  it  was  by  him  that  were  con 
structed  the  works  on  Dorchester  Heights  which  made 
necessary  the  evacuation  of  Boston  by  the  British  fleet 
and  by  Gage's  army.  He  was  also  the  builder  of  Fort 
Putnam  at  West  Point. 

The  most  noteworthy  service  of  Rufus  was,  however, 
rendered  some  years  after  the  close  of  the  Revolution 
when  he  acted  as  leader  of  the  expedition  of  settlers  from 
Connecticut,  Massachusetts,  and  Vermont,  which  went 
westward  down  the  Ohio  River  and  founded  the  town  of 
Marietta.  The  name  of  the  town  was  selected  by  Rufus 
in  memory  of  the  service  rendered  to  the  Continentals 
by  Marie  Antoinette.  The  constitution  for  the  new  com 
munity  was  drafted  by  Putnam  on  his  way  down  the 
river  and  contained  the  earliest  of  the  territorial  declara 
tions  against  the  institution  of  slavery,  the  holding  of 
slaves  being  forbidden  between  the  confines  of  the  newly 
organised  territory.  This  constitution,  accepted  by  the 
national  government,  then  located  at  Philadelphia,  served 
as  a  model  for  the  several  constitutions  of  the  farther 
north-west  territory. 

In  1810,  Henry  Putnam,  who  had  made  a  promising 
beginning  in  his  career,  had  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  an 
exceptional  difficulty  for  so  young  a  man.  The  paralytic 
condition  passed  away,  but  he  was  forbidden  by  his 
physicians  to  resume  the  practice  of  law,  and  was  recom 
mended  an  outdoor  life.  His  resources  were  slender,  and 
the  problem  of  supporting  the  family  (the  first  child  had 
just  been  born)  must,  of  course,  have  been  perplexing. 
My  grandmother  had  received  more  of  an  education  than 


4  Introductory 

in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  was  usually 
given  to  girls,  and  she  was  also  a  woman  of  energy  and 
resource.  She  opened  a  school  in  Brunswick,  Maine, 
to  which  place  she  had  been  invited  by  her  old  school 
fellow  Narcissa  Stone,  whose  father,  Amasa  Stone,  was 
one  of  the  substantial  merchants  of  the  town.  Mr.  Stone 
provided  the  house  which  was  first  occupied  by  the  school. 
In  the  Memoir  of  my  Father,  I  have  given  the  record  of 
his  birth  in  Brunswick  in  1814;  his  apprenticeship  in 
Boston  in  a  business  carried  on  by  his  father's  cousin 
John  Gulliver;  and  his  coming  to  New  York  in  1829,  in 
search  for  a  business  opening.  The  Memoir  goes  on  to 
recount  my  father's  early  service  as  a  bookseller  and  his 
association  in  1840  with  John  Wiley  in  the  firm  of  Wiley 
&  Putnam.  My  father  had,  as  early  as  1837,  made  a 
first  visit  to  London  as  a  representative  of  the  preceding 
firm  of  Wiley  &  Long;  and  he  had  found  himself  impressed 
with  the  possibilities  of  building  up  a  business  in  the 
importation  to  New  York  of  British  books  and  in  arrang 
ing  with  English  publishers  for  American  editions  of  such 
of  their  books  as  were  likely  to  prove  of  interest  for  Ameri 
can  readers.  He  succeeded  in  persuading  his  partner, 
Mr.  Wiley,  that  there  would  be  good  promise  of  remuner 
ative  business  for  the  young -firm  through  the  institution 
in  London  of  a  branch  House,  and  in  1841  he  migrated  to 
London,  and  established  in  Paternoster  Row  a  branch  of 
Wil^y  &  Putnam.  The  business  was,  a  year  or  two  later, 
moved  to  Waterloo  Place.  It  was  through  this  enterprise 
and  venture  of  my  father  that  I  came  to  be  an  Englishman 
by  birth.  It  was  a  convenience  for  me  that  in  1842,  two 
years  before  I  had  any  ground  for  personal  interest  in  the 
matter,  Lewis  Cass,  Secretary  of  State,  had  brought  about 
an  arrangement  with  Her  Majesty's  Government  to  cover 
the  requirements  of  children  born,  whether  in  Great 
Britain  or  in  the  United  States,  of  transatlantic  parentage. 


Introductory  5 

Under  the  provisions  of  this  agreement,  a  son  born  in 
London  whose  parents  were  American  citizens  could 
make  decision  on  arriving  at  the  age  of  twenty-one  whether 
he  would  select  citizenship  in  Great  Britain  or  in  the 
United  States,  and  a  similar  privilege  was  accorded  to  a 
child  of  English  parents  born  in  the  United  States. 

Under  this  arrangement,  there  was  no  requirement  on 
either  side  of  the  Atlantic  for  naturalisation.  On  my 
twenty-first  birthday,  I  was  busy  in  North  Carolina  assist 
ing  General  Sherman  to  secure  the  surrender  of  the  last 
army  of  the  Confederacy.  In  the  pressure  of  other  mat 
ters,  I  had  forgotten  all  about  this  detail  of  selection  of 
citizenship,  but  I  judge  that  I  have  since  April,  1865,  been 
an  American  citizen  by  implication. 


-A.  First  Glimpse  of  England 

1844-1848 

TE  sojourn  of  the  family  in  London  continued 
for  seven  years,  during  which  time  the  three 
eldest  children  were  born.  The  first  home  was  in 
Euston  Square,  the  second  in  St.  John's  Wood,  and  the 
third,  occupied  during  the  last  three  years  of  our  stay,  was 
in  Mornington  Road.  My  first  glimpse  of  England  came 
to  me  in  1844,  but  as  this  was  also  the  first  year  of  my  life, 
my  personal  observations,  while  doubtless  at  the  time 
interesting  to  myself,  are  not  available  for  record.  I 
have,  however,  had  opportunity  since  that  date  of  making 
successive  visits  across  the  Atlantic  and  have  naturally 
been  interested  in  observing  the  various  changes  that 
have  taken  place  in  English  conditions,  political  and 
social,  and  in  the  mental  attitudes  of  the  Englishmen 
with  whom"  I  have  come  into  relations.  Among  these 
changes,  I  may  note  certain  material  modifications  in  the 
views  taken  by  Englishmen  of  men  and  things  in  America, 
but  in  considering  these,  it  is,  of  course,  necessary  to 
bear  in  mind  that  my  own  point  of  view  and  my  impres 
sions  of  matters  English  have  naturally  altered  with 
increasing  knowledge  and  with  maturer  judgment. 
In  1848,  at  the  time  when  my  father  brought  his  family 


[1844-1848]    A  First  Glimpse  of  England  7 

back  to  New  York,  I  was  but  four  years  of  age,  and  my 
direct  memories  of  the  London  sojourn  can,  therefore,  at 
best  have  been  but  slight.  The  fragmentary  impressions, 
however,  of  these  earlier  years  were  supplemented  by  the 
stories  of  our  English  nurse  (who  was  never  wearied  of 
talking  of  London),  by  the  reminiscences  of  my  mother, 
and  later,  during  my  own  annual  visits  to  England,  by 
talks  with  my  father's  friends  and  by  visits  to  our  old 
abiding  places,  so  that  as  I  grew  up  I  came  to  have  in  mind 
a  fairly  complete  picture  of  our  London  home,  and  of  the 
happenings  of  our  family  life  in  England.  The  children 
of  the  St.  John's  Wood  region  used  in  the  40*5,  as  they 
continue  to  use  to-day,  Primrose  Hill  as  a  playground. 
The  Hill  is,  I  judge,  old-time  common  land  of  the  Parish  of 
Paddington.  At  all  events,  it  continues  now,  as  it  was  in 
my  childhood,  unhampered  by  any  restrictions  for  the 
protection  of  the  grass  or  for  other  purposes.  The  larger 
youngsters  played  ball,  and  the  smaller  ones  rolled  over 
the  slope  in  the  sunshine,  when  there  was  any  sunshine. 
Regent's  Park  was  also  used  for  our  outings,  but  we  very 
much  preferred  the  unhampered  open  green  and  somewhat 
mixed  society  of  the  ill-kept  common  to  the  prim  and 
well-cared-for  lanes  and  paths  of  the  beautiful  and  com 
paratively  aristocratic  Park.  Occasionally,  we  had  the 
excitement  of  an  expedition  to  Hampstead  Heath,  where 
the  nurses  exchanged  legends  of  footpads  and  highway 
men,  legends  the  fascination  of  which  for  us  little  ones  was 
to  come  later.  The  feeling  of  homelike  reminiscence 
that  comes  to  me  in  arriving  from  year  to  year  at  Euston 
or  at  Waterloo,  I  am  disposed  to  connect  with  the  first 
whiffs  of  that  wonderful  compound  of  soot,  fog,  and  roast 
mutton  that  go  to  the  making  of  the  atmosphere  of 
London,  and  to  the  association  of  these  familiar  odours 
with  the  earliest  breathings  of  my  infancy  in  the  paternal 
cottage  in  St.  John's  Wood. 


8  London  in  the  Forties  [1844- 

My  father  was  the  first  of  the  American  publishers  to 
invade  England,  and  his  circle  of  friends  included,  in 
addition  to  the  leading  publishers  of  the  time,  many  of  the 
writers  whose  names  became  famous  in  Victorian  litera 
ture,  and  a  number  also  of  the  statesmen  and  other 
citizens  (a  group  much  smaller  sixty-five  years  ago  than  it 
is  to-day)  who  were  prepared  to  interest  themselves  in 
American  affairs  and  who  were,  therefore,  glad  to  keep 
in  touch  with  a  well-informed  Yankee.  The  young 
publisher  also  came  into  friendly  relations  with  an  inter 
esting  group  of  foreigners,  some  of  whom  were  exiles,  and 
others  for  whom  exile  may  possibly  not  have  been  enforced 
but  who  on  one  ground  or  another  found  residence  in 
the  colony  of  Leicester  Square  easier  or  less  risky  than  in 
their  home  countries. 

The  group  of  publishers  included  John  Murray  the 
second  (Byron's  Murray),  and  his  son  John  the  third. 
I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  continued  personal  association 
with  John  the  fourth,  and^  with  his  son,  John  the  fifth, 
who  ably  continues  the  dynasty  of  this  historic  House; 
Richard  Bentley,  stalwart  Tory  and  "publisher  to  Her 
Majesty  " ;  Francis  Rivington,  "publisher  for  the  Church, " 
whose  firm,  dating  back  to  1711,  was,  I  believe,  the  oldest 
in  the  Kingdom;  Thomas  Longmans,  head  of  the  next 
oldest  concern;  Edward  Moxon,  the  first  publisher  of 
Tennyson,  and  also  publisher  for  Thomas  Hood  and 
Charles  Lamb;  (Moxon,  whom  my  father  described  as 
having  a  most  attractive  personality,  married  Emma 
Isola,  the  adopted  daughter  of  Charles  Lamb);  Henry 
George Bohn,  creator  of  the  first  "libraries, "  or  uniformly 
printed  series  of  books  accepted  as  classics ;  George  Smith, 
then  a  youngster  among  the  book  men,  head  of  the  firm 
of  Smith  &  Elder,  the  publishers  of  Cornhill,  from  whose 
office  Thackeray  sallied  forth  for  his  famous  journey  from 
Cornhill  to  Cairo;  Nicholas  Tnibner,  a  scholarly  young 


1848]  The  Publishers  9 

German,  who  became  known  as  the  leading  publisher  of 
oriental  literature,  and  Daniel  Macmillan,  founder  (with 
his  younger  brother  Alexander)  of  a  publishing  firm  which 
within  a  comparatively  brief  term  of  years  has  become 
one  of  the  most  important  in  Europe. 

My  father's  American  agency  in  Waterloo  Place  became 
something  of  a  centre  for  American  residents  and  for  the 
(not  very  large)  group  of  Englishmen  who  were  interesting 
themselves  in  American  affairs.  My  father  described  to 
me  in  later  years  his  interest  in  the  political  activities 
of  the  London  of  the  early  '40*3.  He  was  particularly 
interested  in  the  events  of  Charter  Day,  the  famous 
tenth  of  April,  1848,  when  the  great  petition  was  presented 
to  the  House  of  Commons,  and  when,  in  connection  with 
the  outbreaks  that  were  apprehended  in  London,  a  num 
ber  of  quiet  citizens  were  given  badges  of  authority  as 
special  constables.  It  is  probable  that  a  considerable 
proportion  of  the  trusted  tradesmen  were  carrying  guns 
for  the  first  time  in  their  lives.  In  a  number  of  Punch 
issued  during  the  Charter  Days,  there  is  a  picture  of  one 
of  these  citizen  constables  in  his  uniform,  surrounded 
by  admiring  members  of  his  family,  preparing,  on  the 
evening  of  April  Qth,  for  the  strenuous  service  of  the 
following  day  by  drying  his  powder  on  a  shovel  over 
the  kitchen  fire! 

"The  Chartists, "  says  the  historian  McCarthy,  "were 
divided  roughly  into  three  classes:  The  regular  political 
agitators,  who  contended  steadily  for  the  six  points 
of  the  Charter  and  for  nothing  more,  and  who  hoped 
to  compass  their  ends  (as  indeed  most  of  these  ends  were 
finally  compassed)  by  open  and  constitutional  agitation; 
the  socialist  Chartists,  men  who  believed  the  whole  condi 
tion  of  things  to  be  wrong,  and  who  wanted  to  turn  society 
upside  down  in  the  hope  that  a  general  rearrangement 
must  result  in  a  fairer  division  of  the  resources  of  the 


io  The  Chartists  [1844- 

community;  and  finally,  the  men  who  had  given  no 
special  thought  to  theories  of  social  organisation,  but 
who  were  driven  into  Chartism  by  vague  discontent,  or 
by  suffering  that  was  not  vague  but  very  real  and  intense, 
and  who  attached  themselves  to  Chartism  because  it 
promised  to  get  rid  of  the  bread  tax  and  because  it  held 
out  to  them  the  promise  of  a  fair  wage  for  a  fair  day's 
work.  There  were  also  with  the  discontented  of  1841-48 
(as  with  those  of  many  later  years)  not  a  few  whose 
yearning  was  for  a  full  day's  wage  without  a  fair  day's 
work. "  A  dramatic  presentation  of  the  dreams  and  hopes 
of  the  Chartists  is  given  in  Kingsley's  romance  Alton 
Locke. 

The  six  "points"  or  contentions  presented  in  the 
"  People's  Charter"  as  the  programme  of  the  People's  Party 
were:  i.  Annual  parliament.  2.  Universal  suffrage. 
This  probably  did  not  include  what  is  to-day  called  "  equal 
suffrage,"  or  votes  for  both  sexes.  3.  Vote  by  ballot. 
4.  Abolition  of  property  qualification  for  membership 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  5.  Payment  of  members. 
6.  Equalisation  of  the  electoral  districts.  The  substance 
of  the  Charter  was  drafted  as  far  back  as  1836  by  six 
of  the  more  "advanced"  members  of  the  House,  with 
O'Connell  as  leader. 

Of  these  contentions,  the  following  have  at  this  date 
(1913)  been  secured:  Vote  by  ballot;  abolition  of  property 
qualification  for  membership  in  the  House  of  Commons; 
payment  of  members.  The  demand  for  universal  suffrage 
has  been  practically  secured  as  far  as  males  are  concerned, 
and  if  the  suffrage  is  not  yet  equal  for  both  sexes,  it  is 
certainly  not  for  want  of  energetic  demand  and  protest  on 
the  part  of  the  women. 

I  can  make  space  here  for  reference  to  only  one  of  the 
friends  with  whom  I  came  into  relations  during  this 
earliest  sojourn  in  England.  The  house  adjoining  my 


1848]  English  Friends  n 

father's  in  Mornington  Road  was  occupied  by  John 
Champney  Rutter,  a  solicitor  of  the  old-fashioned  type, 
whose  wife  had  been  interested  in  rendering  friendly  serv 
ice  to  my  mother  during  her  first  troubles  with  the  prob 
lems  of  London  housekeeping.  Mr.  Rutter's  only  son 
Henry  was  my  first  playfellow.  After  taking  a  degree 
in  London,  young  Henry  entered  his  father's  office  and  in 
the  ordinary  course  of  succession  became  later  what  was 
known  as  the  "firm. "  He  was  an  excellent  student  both 
as  a  schoolboy  and  a  collegian,  and  he  preserved  through 
his  life  the  habit  of  reading  and  a  fondness  for  classic 
literature,  using  the  term  " classic"  to  cover,  in  addition 
to  the  great  authors  of  antiquity,  a  careful  selection  of 
English  writers  down  to,  say,  the  beginning  of  the  nine 
teenth  century.  For  "books  of  the  day,"  as  he  called 
them,  he  had  no  respect.  A  work  of  literature  must  have 
secured  the  appreciation  of  several  generations  before  it 
seemed  to  him  deserving  of  time  or  attention.  He  was 
willing  to  admit  that  some  work  of  permanent  value  might 
be  produced  by  contemporary  writers,  but  he  preferred  to 
leave  to  others  the  task  of  sifting  out  from  the  great  mass 
of  current  literature  the  books  which  were  to  survive. 
Harry  Rutter  had  a  high  standard  of  citizenship  but  his 
range  was  strictly  limited.  He  found  it  difficult  to  make 
allowance  for  the  changes  in  conditions,  in  ideals,  and  in 
methods  that  must  come  from  generation  to  generation. 
The  Tory  gentleman  of  the  Addisonian  period  who  feared 
God,  honoured  his  king,  was  intimate  with  his  Horace,  and 
did  his  duty  in  the  sphere  of  life  in  which  he  found  himself, 
was  accepted  by  Rutter  (more  or  less  unconsciously)  as 
a  satisfactory  working  model  to  guide  the  action  of  the 
Englishman  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Changes  were,  in 
his  view,  almost  of  necessity  evils.  The  word  "progress" 
he  connected  with  Radicalism  and  Radicalism  meant  the 
undermining  of  Church  and  State.  While  he  was  in  a 


12  English  Friends  [1844- 

way  exceptionally  fair-minded,  and  was  always  ready  to 
give  respectful  attention  to  the  opinions  of  others,  it  was 
almost  impossible  through  these  opinions  to  modify  in 
any  way  his  own  conclusions  or  points  of  view.  He  lacked 
ambition  and  it  is  my  impression  that  he  found  persistent 
application  to  the  routine  of  office  law  work  irksome.  I 
imagine  that  his  father  was  probably  the  better  lawyer  of 
the  two.  The  business  of  the  office  was  certainly  much 
more  successful  under  the  father's  direction.  Shortly 
after  Harry  came  into  charge  of  affairs,  certain  important 
reforms  in  Chancery  procedure  were  brought  about. 
Some  of  these  may  have  been  suggested  by  the  Bleak 
House  of  Charles  Dickens.  In  any  case,  this  powerful 
story  and  other  writings  bearing  upon  the  accumulated 
abuses  in  the  Chancery  Courts,  brought  to  bear  upon 
these  abuses  so  large  a  measure  of  popular  criticism  and 
indignation  that  the  government  had  to  act.  In  the  early 
sixties,  the  courts  were  re-organised  and  the  management 
of  property  and  of  the  other  matters  that  came  into  the 
Chancery  divisions  was  very  much  simplified  and  rendered 
less  expensive.  The  public  rejoiced,  while  the  lawyers, 
whose  business  was  itself  an  inheritance  through  genera 
tions,  were  naturally  enough  not  a  little  critical  as  to  the 
value  of  " reforms"  through  which  their  incomes  were  cut 
off.  The  more  enterprising  among  the  Chancery  practi 
tioners  reshaped  their  methods  and  made  business  in  other 
directions.  The  firm  of  Rutter  &  Son  could,  unfortun 
ately,  not  be  classed  as  enterprising.  Enterprise  in 
Harry  Rutter's  eyes  meant  competition,  contest,  and 
other  things  that  a  gentleman  ought  not  to  permit  himself. 
He  allowed,  therefore,  his  business  to  rust  away  from  him 
and  accepted  patiently  enough  the  inconveniences  of  a  di 
minishing  income  with  an  increasing  family.  Apart  from 
political  questions,  that  is  to  say,  from  questions  of  the 
present  time,  Rutter  was  exceptionally  intelligent  and 


1848]  English  Friends  13 

his  intelligence  acted  upon  a  vast  fund  of  information. 
I  should  have  accepted  without  question  his  judgment  in 
a  matter  connected  with  Cleon  or  Nicias,  or  the  Roman 
Senate;  but  in  any  issue  between  Disraeli  and  Gladstone 
or  Derby  and  Bright,  his  opinion  was  for  me  not  impor 
tant.  It  was  not  simply  that  his  conclusions  were  Tory 
and  were  always  opposed  to  any  change  of  existing  con 
ditions,  but  that  these  conclusions  were  arrived  at  not 
through  reason  but  through  dogma.  With  all  his  lim 
itations,  Harry  Rutter  was  a  true-hearted  Christian 
gentleman,  a  man  to  trust  implicitly  and  to  hold  in 
strong  regard.  He  was  my  earliest  friend  in  England 
and  our  friendship  continued  unbroken  until  his  death 
in  1895. 

The  medical  adviser  of  our  family,  Dr.  Newton,  was, 
like  his  neighbour  Rutter,  a  practitioner  of  the  old  type. 
He  was  a  fine  natured  and  fair-minded  man,  but  his  fair- 
mindedness,  like  that  of  his  friend  Rutter,  and  for  that 
matter  of  many  Englishmen  of  his  generation,  was  re 
stricted  within  certain  not  very  wide  limits.  It  was 
essential  for  his  consideration  of  any  subject  or  of  any 
issues  that  a  few  main  things  must  be  assumed  or  taken 
for  granted.  Among  these  were  the  Apostolic  Succession 
in  the  Church  of  England  and  the  consequent  futility  and 
absurdity  of  all  dissent;  the  righteousness  of  all  doings  of 
the  English  branch  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  group,  at  least  in 
so  far  as  the  voters  of  England  would  keep  themselves 
under  the  guidance  of  their  natural  and  proper  leaders, 
the  conservative  men  of  the  Church.  Dr.  Newton  seemed 
to  have  had  a  very  comfortable  faith  that  the  Lord  was 
in  a  direct  alliance  with  the  Queen  of  England,  and  that 
through  properly  selected  conservative  rulers,  the  nation 
could  come  to  know  the  Lord's  will.  While  devoted  to  his 
own  daughter  (an  only  child)  and  possessing  also  a  most 
chivalrous  feeling  for  women  generally,  he  had  a  very 


14  English  Friends  In 

definite  idea  of  the  proper  limitation  for  the  development 
of  women's  minds  and  for  the  training  of  their  intelli 
gence.  A  professional  woman  was  to  him  something 
to  be  frowned  upon  very  severely,  and  it  was  with 
sincere  personal  concern  that  he  learned  on  my  first 
visit  to  him  in  later  years  that  my  sister  Minnie, 
his  old-time  pet  and  the  daughter  of  warmly  valued 
friends,  should  have  strayed  into  such  heretical  paths 
as  the  pursuit  of  medical  science.  "No,  no,"  he  said, 
"a  woman's  part  has  been  clearly  fixed  by  God  and 
by  Nature.  There  is  work  enough  for  her  to  do  in  the 
home  and  in  vocations  immediately  connected  with 
home  duty."  Dr.  Newton  found  some  difficulty  in 
understanding  why  the  guidance  of  the  Lord  should 
permit  so  much  radicalism  in  England  and  throughout 
the  world,  but  I  think  he  looked  forward  to  the  checking 
of  this  radical  wave  and  a  recurrence  of  the  old-time 
conservative  ways  under  which  the  people  were  to  fear 
God,  honour  the  King,  obey  the  squire,  accept  as  practi 
cally  inspired  the  word  of  the  Rector,  and  do  their  duty 
without  any  restless  ambition  for  a  change  of  sphere. 
Dr.  Newton's  character  is  worth  recalling  because  he  was 
a  type  of  a  generation  and  of  a  method  of  thought  and 
belief  that  has  so  largely  disappeared. 

The  England  that  my  father  knew  in  the  early  '40*5 
was  still  largely  dependent  for  its  communication  and 
transportation  upon  the  stage-coach  and  the  waggon. 
The  first  of  the  passenger  railroads,  that  from  Liverpool 
to  Manchester,  had,  to  be  sure,  been  opened  as  far  back 
as  1830,  the  opening  being  associated  with  the  tragedy  of 
the  death  of  Huskisson,  recently  leader  of  the  House.  The 
development  of  the  railroads  for  the  first  decade  went  on, 
however,  but  slowly,  and  it  was  not  until  1838  that  the 
road  from  London  to  Birmingham  came  into  operation. 

During  the  years  between   1840  and   1850,   although 


1848]  Railroads  and  Steamships  15 

steamers  were  already  traversing  the  North  Atlantic  with 
a  certain  measure  of  regularity,  a  very  considerable 
portion  of  the  traffic,  not  only  for  freight  but  for  passen 
gers,  continued  to  depend  upon  the  sailing  vessels.  The 
Savannah  had  crossed  the  Atlantic  from  New  York  to 
Liverpool  as  early  as  1818,  making  the  passage  (with  the 
use  both  of  steam  and  of  sails)  in  twenty-six  days.  The 
first  steamers  making  schedule  trips  were  the  Sirius 
and  the  Great  Western.  The  line  was  known  as  the 
Great  Western  Steamship  Company,  and  its  operations 
began  in  1838.  The  charges  for  passengers  on  these 
earlier  steamships  were  of  necessity  heavy,  and  it  was  a 
number  of  years  before  travellers  became  accustomed  to 
the  idea  of  trusting  themselves  on  the  Atlantic  to  steam- 
engines,  so  that  even  apart  from  the  question  of  expense, 
the  more  conservative  travellers  continued  to  give  their 
patronage  to  the  packet  vessels.  Of  these,  there  were, 
back  of  1850,  several  famous  and  well-appointed  lines, 
such  as  the  Black  Star,  the  Black  Ball,  and  others.  The 
owners  of  the  former  line,  Williams  &  Guion,  organised 
later  one  of  the  earliest  steamship  companies,  known  as 
the  Atlantic  and  Great  Western,  or  the  Guion  Line, 
the  flag  of  which  continued  to  carry  the  old  sign  of  a 
black  star.  To  this  line  belonged  the  Margaret  Evans 
which  brought  my  parents  to  England. 

During  my  father's  seven  years'  sojourn  in  England, 
he  experimented  more  than  once  with  the  steamers.  He 
told  me  that  he  had  his  passage  engaged  for  the  President 
at  the  time  of  her  last  trip.  In  connection  with  some 
business  complications,  he  was  obliged  at  the  last  moment 
to  forfeit  his  passage,  and  this  mischance,  which  at  the 
time  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  serious  misfortune,  he  thought 
differently  of  later  in  the  year  when  all  hope  of  the  Presi 
dent's  safe  arrival  was  finally  abandoned.  She  was  one  of 
the  first  of  a  considerable  list  of  steamers  which,  having 


1 6  Lost  Steamers  [1844-1848] 

met  in  mid-ocean  with  some  overwhelming  disaster, 
left  neither  survivor  nor  remnants  to  explain  the  cause. 
The  loss  of  the  President  and  the  similar  disappearance 
later  of  the  Pacific  and  the  City  of  Boston  were  charged 
to  the  account  of  icebergs. 


II 

The  Pvitnam  Family  Migrates  to  "tHe  States" 

1848 

IN  1848,  occurred  a  change  in  my  father's  business 
relations.  As  has  been  related  with  more  detail  in  the 
record  of  his  life,  he  had  been  permitted  by  his  senior 
partner,  John  Wiley,  to  carry  on  for  a  term  of  seven  years 
the  experiment  of  building  up  in  London  an  agency  for 
American  books,  and  of  securing  literary  connections  in 
England  which  could,  it  was  hoped,  be  made  profitable 
for  the  publishing  list  of  the  New  York  House.  Mr. 
Wiley  had  from  the  outset  been  doubtful,  and  by  1848  his 
hopefulness  concerning  the  undertakings  of  the  English 
branch  had  been  seriously  lessened.  It  was  at  this  time 
that  my  father,  with  a  more  direct  knowledge  of  the 
literary  material  that  was  taking  shape  in  London,  was 
emphasising  the  importance  of  a  larger  development  of 
the  publishing  side  of  the  business.  He  was  convinced 
that  an  opportunity  was  presented  for  an  American  House, 
whose  managers  had  already  secured  personal  relations  in 
England,  to  come  into  profitable  business  relations  with 
the  younger  English  authors  in  whose  writings  an  Ameri 
can  public  could  be  interested.  Mr.  Wiley  took  the 
ground  that  there  was  but  little  advantage  in  expending 
labour  and  capital  in  introducing  English  authors  to 
2  17 


1 8  Return  to  New  York  [1848 

American  book-buyers  when,  under  the  copyright  condi 
tions,  it  was  not  practicable  for  the  so-called  authorised 
publishers  to  retain  for  the  American  market  the  control 
of  the  books  thus  introduced.  It  was  his  opinion  that 
the  moneys  paid  to  the  authors,  and  the  further  moneys 
expended  for  advertising  the  books,  would  be  in  large 
part  thrown  away,  as  the  "pirates"  or  publishers  of  the 
unauthorised  editions  might  easily  secure  the  larger  share 
of  the  returns.  Both  men  were  in  a  measure  right,  but 
Mr.  Wiley's  view  was  probably  the  more  accurate  for 
the  period  then  in  question. 

They  finally  decided  to  dissolve  the  partnership,  and  it 
became  necessary  for  my  father  to  return  to  New  York. 
The  family  circle  comprised,  with  the  father  and  mother, 
three  children  and  an  old  English  nurse,  a  very  valuable 
importation.  It  was  considered  advisable  also,  following, 
as  I  may  recall,  the  precedent  established  by  the  passen 
gers  in  the  Mayflower  in  1620,  to  bring  a  substantial  pro 
portion  of  the  furniture  which  had  been  purchased  in 
London.  There  was  no  possibility  of  securing  at  any 
thing  like  the  same  expenditure  equally  good  furniture  in 
New  York.  Some  pieces  of  this  furniture  are,  sixty-five 
years  later,  still  in  use  in  the  family.  I  judge  that  in 
England,  as  in  the  United  States,  during  the  earlier  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  better  material,  if  not  better 
workmanship,  was  put  into  furniture  than  to-day  can 
easily  be  secured  on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

The  homeward  voyage  was  made  in  the  Margaret 
Evans  sailing  packet  of  the  Black  Star  Line,  the  same 
vessel,  with  the  same  captain,  that  my  father  and  mother 
had  taken  for  their  outward  trip  seven  years  back.  I  was 
told  that  for  this  passage  nearly  forty  days  were  required. 
The  mother  and  nurse  must  have  had  their  hands  full  with 
the  care  of  three  youngsters  for  such  a  trip. 

The  London  from  which  my  father  returned  in  1848  was, 


1848]  London  in  1848  19 

of  course,  a  very  different  city  from  that  known  to  the 
American  of  to-day,  and  had  not  materially  changed  at 
the  time  of  my  own  later  sojourns  in  1851  and  in  1860. 
In  place  of  the  majestic  embankment  that  forms  with 
its  great  avenue  the  present  northern  boundary  of  the 
Thames,  there  was  a  long  line  of  mud-flats  extending  up  to 
the  arches  of  Somerset  House  and  to  the  ends  of  the  little 
streets  running  down  to  the  river  from  the  Strand.  Simi 
lar  mud-banks  can  be  noted  to-day  (1913)  on  the  South- 
wark  side  of  the  river  below  Westminster  Bridge.  At  the 
point  where  Northumberland  Avenue  now  connects  with 
Trafalgar  Square,  stood  the  old  Northumberland  House 
with  its  impressive  lion  on  the  top.  At  the  junction  where 
Fleet  Street  on  the  east  meets  the  Strand  coming  from 
the  west,  stood  the  old  gateway,  Temple  Bar,  marking 
the  boundary  line  between  the  City  of  London  and  the 
City  of  Westminster.  Its  quaint  outlines  were  almost  as 
characteristic  as  those  of  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  and  are 
familiar  in  all  the  illustrations  of  London.  It  was  one  of 
the  structures  contributed  to  London  by  Christopher 
Wren.  On  the  balustrade  surmounting  the  archways,  had 
been  placed,  in  the  earlier  days  when  the  government  of 
Britain  was  carried  on  by  more  strenuous  methods,  the 
heads  of  traitors,  which  were  permitted  to  moulder  there 
through  the  years  as  a  lesson  or  a  caution  for  citizens  of 
the  risk  of  opposition  to  the  powers  that  were.  It  was 
with  reference  to  two  of  these  heads  that  Goldsmith 
made  to  Johnson  the  oft-quoted  remark:  Forsitan  et 
nostrum  nomen  miscebetur  istis  ("It  may  be  that  our 
name  too  will  mingle  with  these").  The  quotation 
had  been  made  a  little  previously  by  Johnson  as  the 
two  sat  in  the  Poets'  Corner  in  Westminster  Abbey. 
Temple  Bar  was  itself  part  of  the  history  of  London,  and 
it  was  characteristic  of  the  loyalty  of  Londoners  to  old- 
time  institutions  that  through  the  long  series  of  years 


20  London  in  1848  [1848 

they  were  patient  with  the  enormous  interference  caused 
to  traffic  by  this  inadequate  passageway  that  con 
stituted  rather  a  barrier  than  a  thoroughfare.  The 
roadway  through  the  arch  permitted  the  passage  of 
only  two  vehicles  at  a  time,  while  the  footways  on  the 
right  and  the  left  gave  space  for  but  narrow  streams  of 
foot-passengers.  The  blocking  finally  became  so  serious 
that  additional  roadways  were  made  on  the  north  and 
south  of  the  gate,  leaving  the  structure,  so  to  speak,  in 
the  middle  of  the  road.  Finally,  the  requirements  of 
traffic  got  the  better  of  the  respect  for  antiquity  and  the 
gateway  was  removed  bodily  to  Theobald's  Park  in  Hert 
fordshire.  Its  place  was  taken  by  the  massive  monument 
to  Victoria,  surmounted  by  a  characteristic  griffin,  which 
stands  in  front  of  the  magnificent  pile  of  buildings  con 
structed  for  the  Law  Courts. 

Holborn  Hill  (formerly  Hole-Bourne  Hill),  described  by 
Hood  as  "that  part  of  Holborn  christened  high,"  con 
stituted  a  barrier  of  another  kind  between  the  extension 
of  London  in  the  west  along  Oxford  Street  and  the  dis 
tricts  of  the  City  proper.  The  valley  through  which  now 
runs  Farringdon  Street  was  a  serious  hindrance  for  traffic 
by  horses.  The  building  of  Holborn  Viaduct,  which 
made  a  nearly  level  road  between  the  east  and  the  west, 
was  completed  by  1869,  and  made,  as  I  was  able  myself 
to  realise  on  my  visit  in  1870,  a  great  transformation  in  the 
appearance  of  that  part  of  the  town.  The  opening  of 
Shaftesbury  Avenue  from  Oxford  Street  to  Piccadilly 
Circus  was  the  first  step  taken  in  the  plan  of  securing  a 
better  communication  between  the  north  and  south  di 
visions  of  London,  a  plan  that  has  since  been  extended 
through  the  destruction  of  the  quaint  passageway  of 
Holywell  (famous  for  its  old  book-shops  and  for  its  net 
work  of  narrow  and  ancient  rookeries)  and  the  construc 
tion  of  Aldwych  and  the  King's  Way  from  the  Strand  to 


1848]  Staten  Island  21 

Holborn.  The  picturesque  and  inconvenient  London  of 
the  eighteenth  and  earlier  nineteenth  century  is  being 
rapidly  replaced  by  a  new  city  with  open  thoroughfares 
and  with  few  districts  into  which  sunshine  cannot  per 
meate,  at  least  on  the  days  when  the  gods  are  pleased  to 
send  sunshine  to  London.  The  new  city,  while  in  many 
ways  more  attractive  than  the  old,  is,  it  must  be  admitted, 
a  much  more  expensive  place  in  which  to  live  and  to  do 
business. 

My  father  selected  as  the  first  American  home  for  his 
family,  a  pleasantly  placed  house  at  Stapleton,  Staten 
Island.  From  the  front  piazza,  we  had  a  broad  outlook 
over  the  bay  with  a  view  reaching  to  Long  Island  and  to 
the  city.  The  cottage  was  but  a  few  hundred  feet  from 
the  shore,  and  the  water's  edge,  now  covered  by  com 
mercial  piers,  was  at  that  time  still  rural  in  character  and 
left  space  for  a  beach  and  a  row  of  bathing-houses.  Back 
of  the  cottage,  were  the  grounds  of  the  hospital,  and 
beyond  the  beautiful  hills  of  the  island  still  left  largely 
in  their  original  condition  of  woodland.  While  Staten 
Island  was  at  the  time  settled  but  sparsely,  the  settlers 
represented  a  very  good  class  of  the  community.  It  is 
very  possible  that  there  were  on  the  island  more  hand 
some  country  seats  occupied  by  their  owners  than  is 
the  case  to-day.  Some  years  later,  there  came  upon  the 
island  the  blight  of  malarious  trouble  and  many  of  the 
beautiful  houses,  deserted  by  their  owners  and  not  finding 
sale,  were  allowed  to  fall  into  decay.  The  shores  have 
since  been  so  far  taken  possession  of  by  lager-beer  saloons 
and  by  the  kind  of  building  that  comes  most  naturally 
with  the  saloon,  that  they  are  no  longer  attractive  or  even 
available  for  resident  purposes.  It  is  sad  that  a  suburb 
presenting  so  much  natural  beauty  should  have  been 
allowed  to  become  demoralised  and  that  it  should, 
apart  from  a  few  hundred  acres  devoted  to  commerce, 


22  Staten  Island  [1848- 

have  actually  diminished  in  value  for  homes  or  for 
residence. 

Our  own  sojourn  at  Stapleton  lasted  from  1848  to  1852. 
During  that  time,  it  was  an  admirable  abiding  place,  at 
least  for  the  children,  while  it  was  probably  the  case  that 
the  home  was  more  comfortable  for  the  parents  than 
could  easily  have  been  secured  elsewhere  for  the  expendi 
ture.  The  house  was  semi-detached,  and  on  the  north  side, 
under  the  same  roof  and  with  a  continuation  piazza,  was 
the  twin  house  to  our  own,  occupied  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Jaques.  Mr.  Jaques  could,  I  suppose,  be  described  as  a 
rentier.  It  was  not  easy  for  us  children  to  understand 
why  it  was  not  necessary  for  him  as  it  was  for  our  father 
to  go  to  the  city  to  earn  his  living.  He  had  time  for  gossip, 
and  what  was  of  interest  for  Minnie  and  myself,  he  had 
some  time  to  devote  to  the  amusement  of  us  youngsters. 
He  had  no  children  of  his  own.  According  to  my  memory, 
we  used  his  side  of  the  piazza  as  freely  as  our  own,  and 
there  was  a  pleasant  little  excitement  from  day  to  day  in 
anticipating  what  new  devices  might  take  shape  in  the 
north  corner  for  our  entertainment.  The  stretch  of 
garden  connected  with  the  houses  included  something 
big  enough  to  be  called  a  lawn,  some  locust  trees  of  the 
outlines  of  which  I  have  a  memory,  and,  most  valuable 
for  the  purposes  of  the  children,  a  mulberry  tree  with  low 
hanging  branches.  This  latter  was  utilised  for  Noah's 
Ark,  for  Swiss  Family  Robinson,  and  for  various  other 
combination  amusements  the  details  of  which  were,  as  a 
rule,  planned  by  my  sister  Minnie,  whose  resources  and 
imagination  seemed  to  be  exhaustless. 

One  of  the  pleasurable  excitements  of  the  week  was  to 
be  taken  over,  under  the  guidance  of  one  of  the  older  New- 
bury  boys,  to  spend  the  afternoon  in  the  garden  of  the 
Newbury  family,  whose  home  was  a  mile  from  our  own. 
One  of  the  afternoons  so  spent  had  disastrous  conse- 


1852]  Staten  Island  23 

quences.  The  Newbury  boys  had  been  left  on  the  Fourth 
of  July  to  their  own  devices,  and,  in  fact,  the  older  ones 
were  competent  to  give  such  supervision  as  was  usually 
required.  The  parents  had  gone  to  spend  the  day  with 
friends  in  the  city.  The  firecracker  business,  the  amuse 
ment  of  the  day,  an  amusement  that  boys  of  English 
ancestry,  like  the  Newburys,  were  quite  ready  to  take  from 
their  Yankee  neighbours,  had  been  relegated  to  what  was 
supposed  to  be  a  safe  corner  of  the  lawn.  A  stray  squib 
was,  however,  blown  upon  the  roof  of  the  piazza  too  high 
to  be  reached  from  the  ground,  and  before  this  could  be 
recovered  the  piazza  was  in  a  blaze,  and  in  the  absence  of 
a  ladder  or  of  any  available  supply  of  water  the  blaze  could 
not  be  checked.  The  house  was  completely  destroyed, 
and  when  Papa  and  Mama  Newbury  came  back  from 
town,  they  found  their  youngsters  sitting  on  the  lawn  in 
the  midst  of  a  miscellaneous  pile  of  furniture  and  debris. 
As  one  of  the  youngest  of  the  circle,  I  did  not  feel  any 
personal  responsibility  for  the  accident.  It  had  the 
misfortune  for  us  children  that  our  friends  moved  to  a 
point  two  miles  farther  distant,  and  were  no  longer  avail 
able  as  companions. 

We  belonged,  as  did  nearly  all  the  families  with  which 
my  mother  had  at  the  time  social  relations,  to  the  Parish  of 
St.  John's  at  Clifton.  It  was  in  the  Sunday-school  of  this 
church  that  my  sister  Minnie  and  myself  received  our 
first  formal  religious  teaching.  I  say  formal,  because 
it  is  proper  to  remember  that  both  mother  and  nurse  had 
given  a  full  measure  of  care  to  the  elements  of  the  cate 
chism  and  to  the  Scripture  reading  suited  for  youngsters. 
Minnie  had  what  is  called  an  inquiring  mind,  and  as  her 
inquiries  were  often  such  as  neither  the  mother  nor  the 
nurse  found  easy  to  answer,  they  were,  I  judge,  somewhat 
relieved  when  the  responsibility  for  the  shaping  of  her 
theological  views  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  Sunday- 


24  Staten  Island  [1848- 

school  teacher  and  of  the  rector.  This  rector  was  Alex 
ander  D.  Mercer,  who  continued  in  friendly  relations  with 
my  father  for  many  years  after  our  connection  with  the 
church  had  ceased.  This  connection  was  at  best  at  that 
time  rather  a  formal  one,  as  neither  my  father  nor  my 
mother  were  communicants.  My  father  paid  his  pew 
rent,  however,  and  took  his  full  share  (probably  as  in 
later  years  somewhat  in  excess  of  the  resources  of  his 
income)  in-  the  expenditures  of  the  parish.  Dr.  Mercer 
later  conducted  for  many  years  a  parish  in  Newport, 
Rhode  Island.  In  1878,  the  year  after  his  death,  an 
admiring  parishioner,  Mrs.  Pell,  printed  through  G.  P. 
Putnam's  Sons  a  collection  of  his  sermons. 

During  the  earlier  years  of  our  sojourn  at  Stapleton, 
my  mother's  sister  Corinna,  Mrs.  John  Bishop,  had  her 
home  in  a  pleasant  country  place  at  Clifton.  Mr.  Bishop 
was  a  retired  sea-captain  who  was  attempting,  not  always 
with  success,  to  find  amusement  in  a  life  of  leisure.  The 
Bishop  homestead  was  comfortable,  and  as  compared 
with  our  modest  home  at  Stapleton,  it  impressed  us 
children  with  an  air  of  magnificence.  I  remember  a 
sunshiny  stretch  of  garden  and  a  range  of  stables  that 
presented  a  fascinating  playground.  Beyond  the  house 
was  a  stretch  of  beach  looking  seaward.  For  years  this 
beach,  excepting  on  rare  holidays,  was  practically  free 
from  visitors,  and  we  children  were  able  to  look  for  sea- 
shells  and  other  wonders  without  interference.  To-day  it 
is  covered  with  a  line  of  hotels,  restaurants,  and  dance- 
houses  and  gives  pleasure  to  thousands  coming  from  the 
crowded  streets  of  the  city. 

I  do  not  recall  any  school  experiences  during  our  sojourn 
on  Staten  Island.  The  earliest  teaching  was  divided 
between  the  nurse  and  my  mother.  My  mother  main 
tained  the  closest  relations  with  her  children,  not  only 
during  their  infancy,  but  in  their  later  years  when,  as  they 


1852]  Staten  Island  25 

became  adults,  the  care  came  to  be  given  from  them  to 
her  rather  than  from  her  to  them.  Notwithstanding  our 
early  English  experiences  and  the  fact  that  the  nursery 
was  in  very  trustworthy  hands,  she  never  had  adopted 
the  English  habit  of  accepting  the  companionship  of  the 
children  but  a  limited  number  of  hours  of  the  day.  $he 
gave  her  personal  supervision  to  the  reading  and  to  the 
amusements,  and  she  made  herself  a  part,  and  the  most 
important  part,  of  our  excursions. 

The  amusements  included  bathing  on  the  Stapleton 
beach,  which  was  easily  reached  from  the  house.  There 
Minnie  and  myself,  at  least,  made  some  beginning  in 
learning  how  to  swim.  I  am  not  sure  of  the  exact  point 
at  which  the  art  was  finally  mastered.  I  remember  one 
serious  fright  for  the  nurse,  when  Minnie,  who  had  been 
paddling  from  a  floating  board,  was  carried  out  far  beyond 
her  depth  and  had  to  be  rescued  by  a  rowboat. 

Reference  was  made  in  the  previous  Memoir  to  a 
theatrical  performance  given  at  the  Stapleton  cottage, 
which  constituted  one  of  the  events  of  the  season.  The 
play  was  the  Rivals,  the  preparation  for  which  had  been 
rather  more  elaborate  than  is  usual  with  amateur  theatri 
cals  and  had  included  the  building  of  a  stage  which 
occupied  the  back  half  of  the  house.  The  children  were 
given  the  place  of  honour  in  the  front  seats.  We  were 
interested  in  the  play,  but  derived  a  more  pleasurable 
excitement  from  an  occurrence  later  in  the  evening. 
Through  some  carelessness  with  the  lamps,  the  basement 
pantry  caught  fire,  and  for  a  time,  at  least,  the  whole 
house  was  imperilled.  I  think  it  was  the  fact  that  so 
many  men  were  present  in  the  house  that  prevented  its 
destruction.  The  water  buckets  were  handled  promptly 
and  the  catastrophe  ended  with  a  comparatively  small 
loss. 

Among  the  guests  who  were  brought  to  the  Putnam 


26  Staten  Island  [1848- 

home  during  these  earlier  years,  I  recall  Miss  Bremer,  the 
Swedish  authoress,  Susan  Warner,  the  author  of  The  Wide, 
Wide  World,  Wendell  Phillips,  publicist  and  lecturer,  and 
Mr.  Fabens,  who  published  a  little  later  through  the 
Putnam  House  a  book  on  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  with 
what  was  possibly  the  earliest  suggestion  in  regard  to  a 
railroad.  Miss  Bremer  brought  to  my  father  letters  of 
introduction  from  London  friends  and  he  published 
American  editions  of  The  Home  and  The  Neighbours.  He 
also  assisted  her  to  secure  lecture  appointments.  I  have 
in  my  memory  a  picture  of  a  graceful  little  woman  with 
bright  eyes  and  grey  hair  and  a  genial  smile,  and 
with  attractively  broken  English.  Notwithstanding  my 
father's  friendly  efforts,  the  little  lady  was  disappointed 
with  the  results  of  her  American  venture,  chiefly  because 
the  Harpers  insisted  upon  bringing  into  print  cheap  unau 
thorised  editions  of  the  books.  Susan  Warner  was  just 
coming  into  fame  as  the  author  of  The  Wide,  Wide  World, 
and  she  retained  close  friendly  relations  with  my  father 
until  her  death  some  twenty  years  later.  The  visit  of  Mr. 
Fabens  was  fixed  in  my  mind  because  he  brought  to  my 
sister  Minnie  and  myself  as  a  present  a  small  alligator. 
A  home  was  made  for  the  gentleman  from  Florida  in  a 
washtub  sunken  into  the  ground  in  the  back  garden,  and 
we  indulged  in  great  imaginings  as  to  the  future  of  our  pet 
when,  grown  to  full  size  and  fully  subordinated,  of  course, 
to  our  own  wills,  we  should  be  able  to  make  a  show  of  him 
for  the  benefit  of  our  friends  on  the  island.  For  some 
weeks,  the  alligator  appeared  to  be  fairly  contented  with 
his  surroundings.  We  had  forgotten,  however,  that  he 
could  crawl  as  well  as  swim,  and  one  night  he  escaped  from 
the  tub  and  burrowed  through  a  hole  in  the  garden  fence 
and  was  supposed  to  have  made  his  way  to  the  waters 
of  the  bay.  We  children  had  anxiety  later  as  to  the 
measure  of  responsibility  that  might  come  upon  the 


1852]  Staten  Island  27 

alligator's  owners  in  case,  after  having  grown  big  and  (in 
the  absence  of  our  own  moral  supervision)  having  devel 
oped  ferocity,  he  might  do  some  mischief  in  the  bay.  We 
inquired  from  time  to  time  whether  the  morning  papers 
contained  any  reference  to  his  reappearance,  but  he  was 
never  heard  of  again. 


Ill 

A  Second  Glimpse  of  England 
1851 

IT  seemed  in  order  to  make  the  preceding  few  references 
to  certain  of  my  father's  experiences  in  England  dur 
ing  the  years  in  which  my  own  observations  were 
hardly  in  shape  to  be  recorded. 

The  second  "glimpse"  of  England  which  came  to  myself 
was  secured  in  1851,  when  I  was  seven  years  old.  In  the 
spring  of  that  year,  rny  father  had  occasion  for  a  business 
trip  to  England,  and  decided  to  take  me  with  him.  There 
was  not  much  advantage  to  be  gained  for  a  traveller  of  my 
age  in  the  matter  of  information,  but  the  family  physician 
had  recommended  the  voyage  for  the  sake  of  my  eyes, 
which  were  already  developing  inadequacies  that  have 
hampered  me  through  life,  and  the  boy  was  more  than 
ready  to  accept  cheerfully  so  agreeable  and  so  exciting  a 
prescription.  We  sailed  in  May  on  the  steamer  Franklin, 
belonging  to  the  German  American  Line  that  had  been 
recently  instituted  to  make  trips  between  New  York 
and  Hamburg  with  stops  at  Havre  and  Southampton. 
The  names  of  the  steamers  of  the  fleet  were  divided  equally 
between  the  two  nationalities  concerned,  the  three  other 
vessels  being  called  the  Washington,  Hermann,  and  Hum- 
boldt.  They  were  side-wheel  steamers  of  perhaps  three 

28 


An  Ocean  Voyage  29 

thousand  tons,  with  three  masts,  bark  rigged.  The  sails 
constituted  in  those  days  an  important  factor  in  the  driv 
ing  power  and  the  length  of  the  trips  would  be  very  con 
siderably  extended  by  a  series  of  head  winds.  The 
Franklin  carried,  if  I  remember  rightly,  about  fifty  pas 
sengers  in  the  first  cabin.  The  captain  presided  over 
the  chief  of  the  two  dining-tables  and  gave  as  host  per 
sonal  attention  to  much  of  the  carving.  The  saloon  was 
aft,  extending  to  the  stern,  and  the  passengers  secured 
through  this  position  a  full  share  of  the  motion  of  a 
"pitching"  sea;  but  there  was,  of  course,  none  of  the 
annoying  vibration  such  as  obtains  in  the  after  part  of  the 
later  screw  steamers.  The  side-wheelers  had  also  a  de 
cided  advantage  over  the  modern  vessel  in  a  rolling  sea, 
at  least  when  the  waves  were  fairly  moderate.  In  a  real 
gale,  however,  these  earlier  steamers,  too  short  to  bridge 
successive  reaches  of  rollers,  were  tossed  "  every  which 
way,"  and  when  one  wheel  was  "  whirling  free"  in  mid- air 
while  the  other  was  labouring  under  immeasurable  tons 
of  water,  the  vibration  was  tremendous;  the  effect  was  as 
if  the  vessel  were  a  small  rat  being  worried  and  tossed 
about  by  a  strenuous  dog.  The  staterooms  on  either  side 
opened  into  the  saloon  so  that  the  invalids  could  listen 
to  the  cheerful  clatter  of  the  diners,  while  the  latter  had 
of  necessity  full  consciousness  of  what  went  on  in  the 
berths.  The  ventilation  of  the  saloon,  in  the  absence  of 
side  ports,  was  dependent  upon  deck  skylights  and  it  was 
difficult  to  free  the  atmosphere  from  reminiscences  of 
preceding  banquets. 

Notwithstanding  these  various  discomforts,  travelling 
by  the  old  steamers  had  in  it  much  that  was  attractive 
and  cheery.  The  fifteen  to  seventeen  days  spent  with  a 
small  company  on  a  steamer  like  the  Franklin  gave  op 
portunities  for  companionship  and  sympathetic  relations 
such  as  are,  naturally,  not  practicable  in  an  association 


3O  Green  England 

of  five  or  six  days  with  four  or  five  hundred  fellow-trip 
pers  on  one  of  the  modern  "floating  hotels." 

The  present  magnificent  system  of  docks  in  Southamp 
ton  belongs  of  course  to  a  later  date,  although  a  beginning 
had,  I  believe,  been  made  in  1851.  I  recall  that  the 
passengers  from  the  Franklin  were  landed  by  an  open  tug 
in  a  pouring  rain  as  thousands  of  passengers  have  been 
landed  since,  whether  in  Southampton  Water  or  in  the 
Mersey.  England  has  a  habit  of  receiving  visitors  in 
chilling  showers  which  perhaps  serve  to  impress  the  value 
and  the  warmth  of  the  later  sunshine  and  hospitality. 
The  chief  thing  in  favour  of  the  Southampton  showers  as 
compared  with  those  in  Liverpool  is  that  in  Liverpool 
it  usually  rains  black. 

The  picture  that  came  to  me  on  the  journey  to  Water 
loo  (a  picture  which  has  been  repeated  in  many  succeed 
ing  journeys)  was  of  a  landscape  that  was  grey  and  green. 
The  English  skies  seem  to  carry  for  the  larger  portion  of 
the  days  a  succession  of  greyish  tints,  harmonies  in  grey 
none  the  less  harmonious  because  they  are  so  often  pre 
sented  in  water-colours ;  but  the  darkness  of  the  prevailing 
tints  of  the  heavens  renders  the  more  brilliant  and  satis 
fying  the  intervals  of  sunshine;  while  sky  and  sunshine 
alike  serve  to  emphasise  the  wonderful  freshness  and 
brilliancy  of  the  green  below.  I  doubt  whether  any 
where  in  the  world  is  there  a  verdure  of  grass  and  foliage  to 
be  compared  to  that  of  England  for  its  peculiar  charm  and 
for  freshness  of  colour.  The  green  has  a  translucent  glow 
as  if  some  of  the  sunshine  departed  from  the  sky  were 
shining  below  through  the  grass  and  the  leaves. 

The  social  season  was  at  its  height  at  the  time  of  our 
arrival  in  London  and  the  attractions  of  the  great  Exhibi 
tion,  the  original  of  a  long  series  of  world's  fairs,  had 
crowded  the  town  with  visitors  from  the  Continent  as 
well  as  from  the  county  towns  of  Great  Britain. 


London  in  1851  31 

Through  the  hospitality  of  friends,  we  were,  fortunately, 
independent  of  hotels,  with  which  the  London  of  1851  was 
by  no  means  too  well  provided.  It  was,  in  fact,  for  many 
things  besides  hotels,  an  old-time  London  that  we  were 
entering,  a  London  back  of  the  Thames  Embank 
ment  and  Holborn  Viaduct;  in  which  Temple  Bar  con 
tinued  to  block  the  tide  of  traffic  between  Westminster 
and  the  City  and  the  Lion  of  Northumberland  still 
dominated  Charing  Cross. 

I  found  myself  struck,  in  walking  along  the  Strand  or 
Piccadilly,  with  the  sound  of  foreign  tongues;  Paris, 
Berlin,  Amsterdam,  and  other  Continental  cities  were 
largely  represented  in  London  during  the  Exhibition  year, 
more  largely  probably  than  ever  before.  To  the  New 
Yorker  of  to-day,  the  sound  of  Continental  tongues  is,  of 
course,  no  novelty.  In  fact,  the  streets  of  the  ''Gateway 
of  America"  present  possibly  a  larger  variety  of  race  and 
of  languages  than  can  be  found  in  any  city  of  the  world ; 
but  in  1851,  the  streams  of  immigration  were,  so  to  speak, 
but  rivulets.  New  York  had  inherited  a  Dutch  element 
and  at  this  date  already  possessed  a  considerable  Irish 
population;  the  Irish  immigration,  beginning  with  the 
famine  year,  1847,  continued  in  considerable  volume  for  a 
period  of  some  twenty  years.  In  1851,  the  sounds  of 
German,  Italian,  French,  etc.,  in  the  streets  of  New  York 
were  however  still  comparatively  unfamiliar.  To-day 
(1914)  it  would  seem  as  if  every  variety  of  nationality  or 
speech  were  to  be  found  in  one  quarter  or  another  of  our 
city,  while  not  a  few  of  the  national  groups  occupy  quar 
ters  distinctive  to  themselves,  such  as  a  Klein  Deutschland 
or  a  Piccolo,  Italia  or  Chinatown. 

A  citizens*  committee  endeavouring  to  arouse  the 
voters  of  the  city  to  a  sense  of  their  interests  and  their 
responsibilities  is  obliged  to  print  its  appeals  in  five  or  six 
languages  and  to  secure  for  the  campaign  of  talking  in  the 


32  The  Exhibition  [1851 

streets  the  service  of  polyglot  speakers.  I  remember  a 
case  brought  a  few  years  ago  before  a  Grand  Jury,  of  which 
I  happened  to  be  the  foreman,  in  which  the  accuser,  with 
the  person  under  charges,  and  the  witnesses  were  all 
Chaldeans,  that  is  to  say  they  came  from  the  historic 
region  of  Mesopotamia.  The  court  interpreter  found 
himself  at  a  loss,  and  as  no  gentleman  of  the  jury  would 
undertake  the  position  of  making  the  case  clear  to  his 
associates,  the  foreman  was  obliged  to  swear  in  as  special 
interpreter  a  member  of  the  little  Chaldean  colony.  The 
Chaldean  gentleman  was,  therefore,  in  a  position  to  handle 
the  case  to  suit  himself,  deciding  what  testimony  was  to 
be  accepted,  who  should  be  indicted,  and  later  (in  the  trial 
itself)  who  should  be  convicted.  I  can  only  hope  that 
justice  was  done. 

In  the  early  fifties,  however,  New  York  could  fairly 
be  described  as  an  American  and,  in  large  part,  a 
New  England  city,  and,  therefore,  the  sound  of  various 
tongues  and  the  sight  of  bearded  visitors  with  their 
different  fashions  of  dress  impressed  the  American  boy 
in  London  with  an  agreeable  sense  of  novelty,  a  feeling 
which  was  undoubtedly  shared  by  the  Londoner  of  the 
day. 

Many  of  these  foreigners  were  in  England  for  the  first 
time,  the  attraction  being,  of  course,  the  great  Exhibition. 
London  was,  so  to  speak,  keeping  open  house  for  Europe. 
It  would  not  be  easy  at  this  time,  after  a  lapse  of  more 
than  threescore  years,  to  separate  my  direct  memories  of 
the  Exhibition  from  the  information  gathered  in  my 
reading  later  in  regard  to  its  purpose  and  its  character.  I 
can,  however,  trust  to  my  memory  for  the  picture  that  has 
remained  in  my  mind  of  the  wonderful  glass  dome  with  the 
great  trees  thrusting  their  green  branches  up  into  the 
imprisoned  sunshine.  For  once,  at  least,  the  London 
weather  was  not  disappointing  and  provided  a  delicious 


The  Exhibition  33 

sunshine  to  meet  the  special  requirements  of  the  great 
Exhibition. 

"What  shall  I  look  at  first,"  I  asked,  somewhat  dazed, 
not  unnaturally,  by  the  multitude  of  objects  calling  for 
attention.  "Look  up,"  said  my  father,  and  the  memory 
to  carry  away  from  the  Exhibition,  whether  the  observer 
was  a  child  or  a  greybeard,  was  the  effect  of  the  sunshine 
and  blue  sky  through  the  translucent  covering  of  the 
fairy  palace  and  of  the  masses  of  foliage  of  the  noble 
Hyde  Park  trees  whose  lives  had  been  saved  by  the  genius 
and  ingenuity  of  Paxton. 

The  long  series  of  world* s  fairs  have  familiarised  us 
with  crystal  palaces,  but,  in  1851,  the  idea  that  glass  and 
steel  could  be  safely  and  effectively  utilised  for  any 
structures  larger  than  conservatories  was  a  startling  nov 
elty.  The  palace  in  Hyde  Park  was,  of  course,  simply  an 
ingenious  development  by  Paxton  (himself  a  builder  of 
conservatories)  of  the  conservatory  idea.  We  learn  from 
the  life  of  Prince  Albert  that  the  committee,  of  which 
he  was  himself  chairman,  had  practically  decided  upon 
a  plan  for  an  elaborate  building  of  brick,  in  the  con 
struction  of  which  the  beautiful  trees  of  Hyde  Park 
would  have  been  destroyed.  In  a  number  of  Punch  of 
one  of  the  later  weeks  of  1850,  there  is  a  picture  represent 
ing  the  Queen  interceding  with  the  Prince,  who  is  inspecting 
a  plan  of  the  brick  palace,  with  the  words:  "Albert!  spare 
those  trees.  Touch  not  a  single  bough." 

It  is  my  memory  that  my  father  was  interested  in 
having  me  with  him  in  the  crowd  to  which  the  Prince 
delivered  his  address  at  the  opening  of  the  Exposition.  It 
is  not  likely,  however,  that  we  were  near  enough  to  hear, 
while  if  we  did  hear,  I  should  certainly  have  understood 
but  little;  but  I  have  in  my  memory  a  picture  of  the  June 
sunshine  breaking  through  the  crystal  glass  and  the  tree 
tops  and  falling  upon  the  uplifted  heads  of  the  dense 


34  The  Exhibition  [1851 

crowd  and  upon  the  figure  of  the  man  speaking.  I  have 
been  interested  in  reading,  since,  the  report  of  the  speech. 
It  impressed  me  as  characterised  by  prescience,  breadth  of 
view,  and  a  high  ideal  of  human  relations.  In  fact  the 
whole  scheme  of  the  Exposition,  the  idea  of  which,  as  I 
understand,  originated  with  the  Prince,  gives  evidence 
of  what  may  be  called  practical  imagination.  Albert  was, 
I  believe,  very  nearly  a  great  man.  The  ideal  that  found 
expression  in  his  international  creation  was  the  bringing 
of  the  peoples  of  the  world  into  a  better  understanding 
with  each  other,  an  understanding  to  be  arrived  at  by 
closer  knowledge  and  by  a  larger  measure  of  personal 
relations.  Albert  believed  that  the  responsibilities  of 
government  and  the  direction  of  national  relations  were 
coming  more  and  more  into  the  hands  of  the  people.  It 
was  his  conviction  that,  as  the  people  succeeded  in  secur 
ing  the  management  of  their  own  affairs,  they  would 
come  to  realise  the  unreasonableness  as  well  as  the  waste 
fulness  of  war.  A  large  proportion  of  the  wars  of  the 
world  had  been  brought  about  through  the  ambitions  and 
perversities  of  individual  rulers,  and  would  never  have 
been  permitted  under  governments  which  were  directly 
representative  of  the  interests  of  the  people.  Albert 
contended  further  (sixty  years  in  advance  of  Norman 
Angell's  Great  Illusion)  that  the  old-time  belief,  or  rather 
prejudice,  that  one  nation  could  prosper  only  at  the 
expense  of  another  had  been  finally  exploded  by  the  facts 
of  commerce  and  by  the  analysis  of  the  actual  working  of 
social  relations.  With  nations  as  with  individuals,  pro 
sperity  was  the  result  of  an  effective  production  and  of  an 
intelligent  distribution  of,  that  is  to  say  an  intelligent 
trading  with,  the  things  produced.  Profitable  trading 
requires  prosperous  customers;  and  the  worst  thing,  that 
is  from  the  selfish  point  of  view,  the  most  disadvantageous 
thing,  to  do  with  a  customer  is  to  kill  him,  and  the  next 


issi]  The  Exhibition  35 

worst  thing  is  to  bring  him  to  ruin.  The  best  thing, 
speaking  commercially,  is  for  each  nation  to  exchange 
with  the  others  those  goods  that  each  can  produce  most 
effectively,  that  is  most  economically.  The  advantage  of 
such  exchange  is,  of  course,  not  merely  commercial.  The 
freer  intercourse,  the  closer  relation,  brings  wider  know 
ledge  and  secures  the  exchange  not  only  of  goods,  but  of 
information,  of  ideas,  of  ideals,  and  of  experience;  and,  in 
breaking  down  the  barriers  of  national  or  international 
prejudices,  these  exchanges  tend  towards  the  progress  of 
humanity. 

Albert  was  also  hopeful,  as  the  result  of  the  closer 
knowledge  of  the  artistic  productions  of  the  Continental 
states,  of  advantage  for  the  development  of  the  artistic 
standard  of  England;  and  it  is  probably  the  case  that 
the  replacing  of  the  ugly  furniture  and  decorations  of 
the  Georgian  and  early  Victorian  periods  dates  from  the 
Exposition  of  1851.  It  is  probable  also  that  the  Con 
tinental  visitors  had  something  of  importance  to  learn 
from  English  productions  in  the  division  of  engineering 
and  mechanics.  If  I  understand  the  record  rightly, 
Great  Britain  had  secured,  during  the  period  of  which 
1850  was  the  centre,  a  well-earned  pre-eminence  for  skill 
in  engineering  and  in  the  construction  of  machinery;  but 
by  the  beginning  of  the  twentieth  century,  this  mechani 
cal  superiority  is  being  sharply  and  from  time  to  time 
successfully  contested  in  both  France  and  Germany.  In 
1851,  Great  Britain  was  doubtless  well  in  advance  also  in 
the  construction  of  smaller  domestic  appliances.  Punch 
(of  1851)  has  a  picture  representing  some  French  visitors 
to  the  Exhibition  standing  in  a  state  of  perplexity  in 
front  of  a  well-equipped  washstand  with  the  inquiry: 
' '  Qu'est-ce  que  c'est  ? ' '  Twenty  years  later,  I  found  that  the 
business  of  importing  from  the  States  into  Great  Britain 
articles  which  are  classed  as  "Yankee  notions,"  and 


36  The  Exhibition 

which  cover  all  possible  variety  of  domestic  mechanism 
and  patented  ingenuities  from  mouse-traps  to  refriger 
ators,  had  become  of  importance.  An  English  friend,  who 
had  built  up  a  large  business  in  Yankee  productions  of 
this  miscellaneous  class,  told  me  in  1880  that  during  the 
preceding  year  he  had  brought  over  a  special  form  of 
American  skewers  to  the  value  of  £2000. 

It  is  probable  that  during  the  years  immediately  suc 
ceeding  the  Exposition,  there  came  to  the  women  of  Eng 
land  some  appreciation  of  the  fact  that  their  neighbours 
across  the  Channel  had  arrived  at  a  better  understanding 
than  themselves  of  the  art  of  dressing;  and  that  it  was 
from  this  period  that  we  find  the  customs  of  London 
society  favorably  influenced  by  the  fashions  from  Paris. 
I  may  admit,  however,  that  after  half  a  century  of  obser 
vation  (observations  to'  be  sure  of  a  mere  man  who  can 
claim  no  real  insight  into  such  mysteries),  I  am  still 
puzzled  to  understand  why  the  assimilation  of  French 
standards  of  dress,  and  of  the  capacity  to  secure  with 
a  given  expenditure  artistic  effects  in  dress,  has  not  gone 
further,  and  why  the  results  of  English  costumes  are  not 
to-day,  taken  as  a  whole,  more  satisfactory. 

I  can  but  think  that  good  society  in  England  could 
in  this  matter  of  dress  secure  with  a  more  intelligent  study 
of  the  conditions  (such,  for  instance,  as  is  given  in  New 
York)  a  more  artistic  effect  for  the  money  expended. 
In  the  matter  of  artistic  costumes,  it  is  probable  that  in 
1913,  as  in  1851,  the  Champs  Elysees  makes  a  better 
showing  than  Hyde  Park,  and  doubtless  with  a  decidedly 
smaller  average  expenditure.  I  believe  also  that  the 
picture  presented  in  Fifth  Avenue  is,  in  this  matter  of 
costumes,  more  artistic  than  that  of  Piccadilly,  but  it 
may  at  once  be  admitted  that  the  expenditure  for  dress 
in  New  York  on  the  part  of  the  same  class  of  wearers  is 
much  in  excess  of  that  either  in  London  or  in  Paris. 


London  and  the  Exhibition  37 

Among  other  Punch  pictures  of  the  time  of  the  Exhibition, 
I  find  views  of  the  wonderful  hoop-skirts  of  our  mothers. 
I  imagine  that  in  those  days  New  York  took  its  fashions 
by  way  of  London,  and  that  American  women  were, 
therefore,  a  season  or  two  later  with  their  "novelties."  I 
know  that  in  June,  1851,  the  big  bell-shaped  skirts  struck 
the  small  New  Yorker  as  a  decided  curiosity;  and  I  was 
impressed  by  the  annoyance  caused  to  pedestrians  on  the 
narrow  sidewalks  of  London  streets  and  with  the  fact  that 
the  ladies  occupied  more  than  their  fair  share  (or  more 
even  than  their  proper  share  of  the  fare)  of  the  penny 
worth  of  room  in  the  * 'busses." 

The  dress  of  the  middle  and  lower  middle  classes  in 
English  towns  struck  the  outsider  in  1851  as  hopelessly 
and  stupidly  ugly,  not  to  say  repellent,  as  compared  with 
that  of  similar  townsfolk  on  the  Continent;  and  on  this 
matter  also  I  doubt  whether  there  has  been  any  material 
improvement  during  the  sixty  years  since.  Nowhere  else 
in  the  world  does  one  see  such  absolutely  depressing 
examples  of  tawdriness  and  slovenliness  in  women  of  the 
lower  and  lower  middle  class  as  in  the  streets  of  London, 
Liverpool,  or  Glasgow.  It  is  fair  to  remember,  however, 
that  the  group  of  trained  servants  in  the  houses  of  the 
upper  class  makes  a  very  fair  showing  in  this  matter  of 
dress,  which  is  not  only  neat  but  often  picturesque.  A 
certain  uniformity  of  style  is  evidently  required  in  regard 
not  only  to  such  details  as  caps  and  ribbons,  but,  if  I  have 
been  rightly  informed,  for  the  exclusion  of  undue  orna 
mentation;  the  waitress  must  keep  her  artistic  ambitions 
within  reasonable  bounds,  but  even  then  she  often  pre 
sents  a  more  satisfactory  costume  effect  than  that  of  her 
mistress. 

The  flowers  in  the  Covent  Garden  market  are  fully 
as  beautiful  as  those  to  be  found  in  the  Marchees  des 
Fleurs  in  Paris  or  in  Brussels,  but  on  any  such  Marchee, 


38  London  and  the  Exhibition  [1851 

the  blossoms  are  offered  by  a  trim,  genial  person  whose 
gown  and  scarf  present  a  nice  harmony  of  gay  colours, 
whose  cap  is  white,  whose  footgear,  whether  shoes  or 
sabots,  is  neat,  and  whose  face  and  hands  are  clean.  Her 
very  smile  contributes  an  addition  to  the  value  of  her 
wares.  The  Covent  Garden  saleswoman  on  the  other 
hand  is  too  often  a  frowsy,  unattractive  individual  whose 
costume  is  objectionable  in  every  visible  detail  and  whose 
hand  one  would  prefer  not  to  touch.  I  doubt  whether  in 
this  detail  there  has  been  any  material  change  between  the 
Covent  Garden  of  1851  and  that  of  1913. 

The  fifty  years  following  1851  witnessed  a  lot  of  fight 
ing,  much  of  which  could,  as  we  now  realise,  have  been 
avoided,  and  all  of  which  was  wasteful  and  in  many  ways 
disastrous.  But  the  twentieth  century  opens  with  better 
prospects,  and  it  seems  probable  that  the  international  rela 
tions  of  men  are  coming  to  be  managed  with  larger  know 
ledge  and  with  more  common-sense.  Many  sharp  issues 
of  no  little  importance  have  been  decided  without  war  and 
by  methods  more  effective,  more  equitable,  and  enormously 
less  expensive,  and  such  methods  appear  likely  to  become 
the  rule,  while  war  will  remain  the  exception.  This 
change  is  doubtless  to  be  credited  in  large  part  to  the 
rise  of  representative  government  and  in  part  to  the 
growth  of  interstate  relations,  factors  which  have  worked 
together  for  the  development  of  a  higher  civilisation.  In 
the  matter  of  international  relations,  the  Exposition  of 
1851  was  certainly  a  most  important  influence,  serving 
both  as  evidence  of  what  had  been  accomplished  and  as  a 
forerunner  of  further  progress.  The  work  and  the 
prophecies  of  Prince  Albert  are  being  justified  fifty  years 
after  his  death. 

In  looking  over  the  English  papers  of  the  Exposition,  I 
find  that  the  United  States  was  at  the  time  in  not  very 
good  repute  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  The  Eng- 


1851]  English  Opinions  39 

lish  journalists  were  not  only  as  a  rule  critical,  but  they 
seem  to  have  taken  an  almost  malicious  pleasure  in  select 
ing  as  news  items  to  bring  across  the  ocean  those  that  had 
to  do  with  the  barbarism  of  the  new  community  rather 
than  those  that  gave  evidence  of  its  progress.  Frequent 
references  are  made  to  the  abominations  of  slavery,  and 
to  the  brandishing  of  the  bowie-knife  or  of  the  Colt 
revolver.  The  American  community  that  was  described 
in  the  Times  or  was  pictured  in  Punch  was  not  that  of 
Massachusetts  or  Connecticut,  but  of  South  Carolina  or 
Arkansas.  The  judgment  in  regard  to  the  selection  of  the 
news  that  it  is  considered  worth  while  to  select  from 
the  happenings  of  the  great  continent  and  to  bring  across 
the  Atlantic  for  publication  in  the  English  journals  does 
not  seem  to  have  improved  during  the  past  sixty  years 
as  much  as  might  have  been  expected.  It  is  true  to-day 
that  large  outlay  is  incurred  for  cabling  to  London  papers 
reports  of  a  hold-up  in  Texas  or  of  some  unimportant  fad 
of  the  "Four  Hundred"  in  Newport,  while  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  find  even  in  the  best  of  English  papers 
prompt  information  concerning  important  legislation, 
decisive  elections,  or  expressions  of  public  opinion  on 
matters  of  moment  not  only  to  the  United  States  but  to 
the  world.  English  journals  ought  to  make  a  more 
intelligent  use  of  their  international  correspondence  and 
of  their  cable  facilities. 

In  1851,  it  was  necessary  from  time  to  time  to  admit 
that  however  low  the  civilisation  of  the  United  States, 
there  were  some  things  that  the  Yankee  could  accomplish. 
It  is  then  that  the  yacht  America  crosses  the  Atlantic 
and  comes  out  so  far  ahead  of  the  best  specimens  of 
English  yacht-building  that  the  message  brought  to  the 
Queen  from  Cowes  reports  "America  first,  the  rest  no 
where."  Punch  has  a  picture  of  a  British  yacht-builder 
with  his  model  under  his  arm,  complaining  to  John  Bull, 


40  English  Opinions  [1851] 

"If  you  please,  Sir,  there  is  a  nasty,  ugly  American  that 
has  been  a  beating  of  me. " 

We  may  recall  that  in  spite  of  a  series  of  enterprising 
and  plucky  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  English  builders  and 
sailors  continuing  during  a  term  of  sixty  years,  the  cup 
captured  in  1851  remains,  in  1913,  on  the  western  side  of 
the  Atlantic. 

In  1851,  as  later,  it  seemed  to  be  the  routine  in  Great 
Britain  if  a  new  fad  of  any  kind  came  up  which  was 
undesirable  and  deserving  of  repression  to  class  it  as  an 
' 'Americanism."  In  Punch  and  other  journals  of  that 
day,  "Bloomerism"  is  one  of  the  American  nuisances 
referred  to.  I  do  not  myself  recall  the  birthplace  of  the 
original  Mrs.  Bloomer,  but  her  followers  seem  to  have 
been  about  as  active  in  England  as  in  the  States. 


IV 
A  Home  in  New  "YorK 

IN  1852,  some  months  after  my  visit  to  England,  the 
Staten  Island  house  was  given  up  and  the  family 
migrated  to  a  new  home  that  my  father  had  secured 
in  East  Sixteenth  Street  opposite  St.  George's  Church,  and 
nearly  adjoining  Stuyvesant  Square.  My  father's  busi 
ness  undertakings  had  developed,  and  he  found  it  desirable 
to  be  more  closely  within  reach  of  his  authors  and  of 
social  happenings  in  the  city.  The  Staten  Island  of  those 
days  possessed  certain  advantages  over  the  region  as 
known  to-day,  in  that  it  really  was  a  rural  neighbourhood 
still  unspoiled  by  commercial  piers,  by  railroads,  by  beer 
saloons,  and  by  the  dance-houses.  The  arrangements  for 
communication  with  the  city  presented,  however,  not  a 
few  inconveniences,  as  the  boats  were  neither  fast,  com 
modious,  or  regular.  I  can  but  think  that  in  the  early 
fifties  there  must  have  been  a  larger  proportion  of  severe 
winters.  It  is  certain  that  during  those  years  the  bay 
was  more  frequently  clogged  with  ice  floes  than  I  can 
remember  in  any  later  period.  The  boats  were  frequently 
detained  by  the  ice  and  sometimes  were  compelled  to  stop 
running  altogether,  leaving  the  wives  on  the  island  in  a 
state  of  doubt  as  to  whether  their  respective  husbands  were 
safely  placed  in  city  hotels,  or  were  drifting  down  towards 
Sandy  Hook  in  an  unmanageable  boat. 

41 


42  A  Home  in  New  York  [1852- 

The  five  children  who  constituted  the  family  in  the 
Sixteenth  Street  home  were  somewhat  critical  at  the 
limitations  of  city  life,  but  the  use  of  Stuyvesant  Square 
as  a  playground  gave  some  compensation  for  the  loss  of 
country  privileges,  while  there  were  also,  of  course,  many 
new  interests  in  the  city  surrounding.  For  some  months, 
no  arrangements  were  made  for  the  schooling  of  my  older 
sister  and  myself,  and  the  direction  of  the  study  hours 
remained  in  the  charge  of  my  mother,  with  the  exception 
of  one  hour  in  the  morning  which  was  spent  in  the  study 
of  my  father's  friend  and  author,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hawks, 
Rector  of  Calvary  Church.  Dr.  Hawks,  in  visiting  the 
house,  had  found  himself  attracted  by  the  brightness  and 
originality  of  my  sister.  As  I  learned  later,  he  was  at  the 
time  owing  my  father  some  money.  He  had  the  reputa 
tion  of  being  not  very  precise  in  money  matters,  and  he 
was  apt  to  purchase  things,  including  books  for  his  com 
prehensive  library,  for  the  payment  of  which  he  did  not 
have  the  funds  available.  It  was  possibly  a  suggestion 
on  the  part  of  my  father  that  Dr.  Hawks  might  devote 
some  spare  time  to  giving  to  two  of  his  youngsters  instruc 
tion  in  Latin.  I  doubt  whether  we  learned  very  much 
Latin,  but  the  hour  was  always  interesting.  The  Doctor's 
conversation  was  varied  and  dramatic,  and  his  counsel 
concerning  books  that  we  could  read  to  advantage  was 
suggestive  and  was  in  large  part  followed.  I  do  not  mean 
that  Dr.  Hawks  recommended  what  in  the  ordinary  sense 
of  the  term  would  be  called  courses  of  reading.  His 
unsystematic  mind  would  never  have  troubled  itself  to 
scheme  out  any  such  courses.  In  conversation,  however, 
he  found  out  from  time  to  time  something  of  our  interests, 
and  he  would  propose  one  day  one  book  and  one  day 
another.  Our  reading  was  in  any  case  discursive  enough 
and  it  had  the  effect  of  keeping  our  minds  fairly 
awake. 


New  York  in  the  Fifties  43 

A  little  later  I  was  myself  placed  in  a  school,  or  rather 
class,  carried  on  under  the  supervision  of  Dr.  Stephen  H. 
Tyng,  who  was  for  many  years  Rector  of  St.  George's 
Church  and  who  was  during  a  large  part  of  the  century 
a  familiar  and  influential  personality  in  the  life  of  the  city. 
It  was  in  connection  with  this  class  that  I  received  my 
first  military  training.  The  oldest  son  of  Dr.  Tyng,  called 
like  his  father  Stephen,  organised  a  company  of  cadets, 
as  he  called  them,  and  he  gave  us  some  drilling  exercises  in 
the  rear  of  the  church. 

During  the  years  of  this  New  York  sojourn,  we  children 
were  too  young  to  have  much  direct  knowledge  of  the 
social  relations  of  the  family.  I  may  recall,  however, 
certain  receptions  at  which  my  eldest  sister  and  myself 
were  permitted  to  be  present  in  the  earlier  hours  of  the 
evening.  These  receptions  were  held  on  Tuesday  even 
ings  throughout  the  winter  months  and  represented  an 
attempt  on  the  part  of  my  father  to  bring  together  in 
social  relations  certain  interesting  people  who  might  he 
thought  find  pleasure  in  meeting  each  other,  although  the 
majority  of  them  did  not  belong  to  what  was  more  for 
mally  known  as  "  society. "  The  fashionable  society,  the 
"Four  Hundred"  of  the  day,  was  being  chronicled  with  no 
little  cleverness  by  George  William  Curtis  in  Putnam's 
Monthly  in  the  series  of  articles  entitled  the  "Potiphar 
Papers, "  articles  which  have  since  taken  their  place  in  the 
literature  of  the  country.  With  the  society  in  which  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Potiphar  moved,  my  father  and  mother  had  little 
to  do.  They  did  not  have  the  money  to  meet  the  required 
expenditure,  and  they  were  not  interested  in  the  person 
alities  of  the  nouveaux  riches  nor  of  the  sometimes 
equally  uninteresting  inheritors  of  the  riches  of  the  pre 
ceding  generation;  while  apart  from  their  own  personal 
taste  in  the  matter,  it  is  fair  to  say  that  they  would  not 
have  been  included  in  the  invitation  lists  of  the  leaders 


44  New  York  in  the  Fifties  [1852^ 

of  Mrs.  Potiphar's  "best  society."  It  was,  nevertheless, 
true  that  they  did  have  pleasant  social  relations  with  some 
of  the  best  people  in  New  York.  The  circle  of  which 
Mr.  Bryant  was  the  acknowledged  head  included  the 
men  and  women  of  letters,  the  leading  artists  and  journal 
ists,  and  a  group  of  the  younger  writers  whose  work  was 
not  yet  sufficiently  assured  to  entitle  them  to  be  called 
men  of  letters,  but  who  were  feeling  their  way  through 
journalism  towards  authorship  in  literature.  With  this 
group  were  to  be  included  George  William  Curtis,  Parke 
Godwin,  Frederick  Beecher  Perkins,  Frederick  S.  Cozzens, 
Caroline  M.  Kirkland,  Miss  Lynch,  afterwards  Mrs. 
Botta,  Catherine  Sedgwick,  and  a  number  of  other  writers 
with  whom  in  his  publishing  office,  or  through  the  pages 
of  his  magazine  my  father  had  come  into  personal  relations. 
I  will  not  say  that  it  was  the  theory  of  his  publishing 
policy,  but  rather  was  it  the  necessity  of  his  nature,  that 
people  whose  characters  were  refined  or  whose  personal 
ities  and  intellectual  capacities  were  interesting,  in  coming 
into  business  relations  with  their  publisher  came  almost 
of  necessity  into  the  circle .  of  his  personal  friends.  A 
publisher  should  perhaps  never  consciously  mark  out  for 
himself  as  a  wise  business  policy  the  desirability  of  estab 
lishing  and  maintaining  with  authors  whose  works  were 
likely  to  prove  of  importance,  personal  relations  developing 
into  friendship;  while  it  is  probable  also  that  if  such  a 
course  were  pursued  simply  as  a  matter  of  business  policy, 
the  relations  would  at  best  become  formal  rather  than 
friendly.  Attempts  at  friendship  made  with  the  hopes  of 
resulting  in  business  advantage  would  sooner  or  later  be 
found  out  and  would  repel  instead  of  attracting  the  people 
whose  friendship  was  really  worth  while.  When,  however, 
as  was  the  case  with  my  father  and  with  his  group,  the 
personal  interest  in  the  other  fellow  was  natural  and 
increased  with  the  length  of  the  association,  the  relation 


My  Father's  Friends  45 

thus  established  could  become,  and  in  my  father's  case 
did  become,  an  important  factor  in  the  development  of 
a  business  based  upon  literature. 

For  this  and  for  other  reasons,  the  circle  that  came 
together  in  my  father's  house  was  distinctive,  representa 
tive,  and  in  more  ways  than  one  attractive.  I  retain  in 
my  memory  impressions  of  the  faces  of  certain  of  the  men 
and  women  who  were  my  father's  guests,  the  names  of 
many  of  whom  have  taken  honourable  place  in  American 
literature  and  in  the  history  of  the  community;  but  this 
impression  is  doubtless  in  large  part  based  upon  my  rela 
tions  later  with  these  same  people  grown  half  a  generation 
older.  I  recall  at  one  of  the  receptions  the  burly  figure 
and  broad  face  (which  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  broken 
outline  of  the  nose  would  really  have  been  majestic)  of 
Thackeray,  whom  in  later  life  I  did  not  have  an  oppor 
tunity  of  meeting.  I  may  also  recall,  on  the  same  evening 
in  which  I  had  looked  up  at  Thackeray,  being  patted  upon 
the  head  by  a  kindly  old  gentleman  in  a  priest's  dress 
whose  touch  my  father  bade  me  to  remember.  "It  is 
probable,  Haven,"  said  my  father,  "that  you  will  never 
again  have  your  head  pressed  by  the  hand  of  a  king." 
The  old  gentleman  smiled  as  he  heard  my  father's  word, 
but  it  was  a  smile  of  acceptance.  He  believed  himself 
to  be,  and  as  far  as  it  is  possible  to  judge  of  the  evidence 
of  the  day  there  seemed  to  have  been  fair  probability  that 
he  was,  Louis  the  Seventeenth  who,  if  the  fates  and  the 
people  of  France  had  not  stood  in  the  way,  should  have 
occupied  the  throne  in  the  Tuileries.  Mr.  Eleazar 
Williams,  the  name  by  which  the  old  missionary  had 
for  sixty  years  been  known,  was  in  New  York  for  a  few 
months  with  his  friend  Mr.  Hanson,  who  had  occupied 
himself  in  putting  into  shape,  with  the  aid  of  Dr.  Hawks, 
the  evidence  upon  which  rested  the  claim  of  Williams 
to  be  identified  as  the  son  of  Louis  XVI.  The 


46  New  York  in  the  Fifties  [1852- 

substance  of  this  evidence  came  into  print  in  Putnam's 
Monthly  in  an  article  entitled  "Have  We  a  Bourbon 
Among  Us?"  and  the  material  was  afterwards  expanded 
into  a  book  published  by  G.  P.  Putnam  &  Co.  under  the 
title  of  The  Lost  Prince. 

The  impression  is  very  general  among  the  men  of  my 
generation  that  there  has  in  the  past  half  century  been 
a  change  in  the  conditions  of  the  weather  in  the  New  York 
region.  According  to  our  memories,  the  winters  in  the 
'5o's  were  more  severe  than  any  of  which  we  have  had 
knowledge  in  the  later  years.  I  recall  the  use  nearly 
every  winter  in  Broadway  of  stages  on  runners,  and  for 
this  purpose  there  must,  of  course,  have  been  snow  in  the 
street  for  a  long  enough  time  to  warrant  the  cost  of  keeping 
such  runners  in  readiness.  There  was  in  the  '50*5  no 
attempt  to  clean  the  streets  from  snow,  and  it  is  possible 
that  the  stage  companies  took  some  pains  even  to  preserve 
and  to  level  the  snow  on  Broadway.  The  stages  were 
large  open  sleighs  with  straw  on  the  floor  for  the  protection 
of  the  feet  of  the  passengers.  The  fare  was  six  cents  for  a 
ride  inside,  while  three  cents  was  charged  to  the  boys  who, 
either  because  the  inside  seats  were  occupied  or  for  the 
fun  of  the  thing,  chose  to  take  their  rides  on  the  runners. 
It  is  my  impression  that  whatever  was  the  theory  about 
a  three-cent'  fare  for  a  runner-ride,  there  must  have  been 
not  a  few  occasions  on  which  the  conductor  did  not  suc 
ceed  in  getting  around  or  in  getting  his  arm  over,  so 
that  the  boys  had  their  little  excitement  without  any 
direct  expense. 

In  1854,  the  pleasant  home  in  Sixteenth  Street  was 
given  up  and  the  family  migrated  to  Yonkers,  which  was 
at  the  time  a  pretty  rural  village.  The  group  of  children 
had  increased,  and  my  mother  found  herself  somewhat 
perplexed  with  the  difficulties  of  keeping  them  all  well  and 
properly  cared  for  under  the  risks  and  restrictions  of  city 


i854l          My  Mother  and  her  Children  47 

surroundings.  She  still  retained  in  her  own  hands  the 
main  responsibility  for  the  supervision  of  all  the  youngsters 
and  she  took  a  large  part  in  the  education  of  the  older  ones. 
It  is  my  memory  that  from  the  time  when  I  was  first 
old  enough  to  ask  questions  about  things,  my  mother 
was  nearly  always  within  reach  to  give,  if  not  a 
finally  satisfactory  answer,  at  least  a  sympathetic  con 
sideration.  She  made  herself  very  much  a  part  of  the 
life  of  her  children,  and  they  held  on  to  her  as  a  companion 
and  the  companionship  increased  and  strengthened  as 
they  grew  older,  until  in  later  years  it  came  to  be  the 
mother  who  was  the  one  cared  for.  The  fact  that  at  the 
time  of  her  marriage  she  was  herself  but  a  child  of  sixteen, 
while  it  must  have  been  perplexing  enough  for  meeting 
her  steadily  increasing  responsibilities  as  a  mother,  made 
her  not  only  actually  nearer  to  her  children  in  point  of 
years,  but  sympathetic  with  them  from  a  very  early  date 
in  the  matter  of  acquiring  knowledge.  She  had  herself 
never  had  anything  that  could  be  called  an  education  or  a 
training  that  could  constitute  a  proper  foundation  for  an 
education.  Her  mind  was,  however,  active,  and  with  a 
large  measure  of  industry  and  persistence,  she  continued 
through  her  entire  life  to  read  for  information  as  well  as 
for  pleasure.  In  the  years  of  which  I  am  now  speaking, 
the  reading  that  was  carried  on  for  the  guidance  of  us  older 
children  was  for  herself  also  a  matter  of  personal  interest 
and  enlightenment.  During  the  later  years  of  her  life, 
when  freed  from  responsibilities  for  household  cares  in  New 
York,  she  made  frequent  journeys  through  Europe  with 
my  sisters,  and  she  always  made  fresh  attempts  upon  the 
language  of  the  country  in  which  she  was  sojourning. 
She  secured  enough  knowledge  of  French,  German,  and 
Italian  to  keep  herself  interested  in  the  literature  of  the 
three  countries  and  to  be  in  direct  touch  with  the  talk  in 
the  streets  and  with  the  conversation  of  the  people  whom 


48  The  Home  in  Yonkers  [1854- 

she  met.  In  this  respect,  the  contrast  between  herself 
and  many  of  the  lazy  minded  American  women  of  her 
generation  was  marked. 

The  home  in  Yonkers  was  on  what  is  known  as  the 
Albany  Post  Road,  about  a  mile  north  of  the  village  centre. 
The  house  commanded  a  beautiful  view  down  the  river 
and  was  surrounded  by  a  playground  which,  to  children 
whose  experiences  had  recently  at  least  been  confined  to 
city  streets,  presented  all  the  magnificence  of  an  estate. 
This  estate  included  a  stable,  a  chicken  house,  and  a  garden 
for  my  mother's  flowers  and  for  some  raising  of  vegeta 
bles,  and  also  a  piece  of  land  which,  originally  a  lawn, 
was  speedily  converted  into  a  ball-ground.  After  the  first 
year  in  our  river  home,  the  control  of  the  vegetable  garden 
came  into  my  hands,  and  the  work  was  carried  on  by  my 
self  under  contract  with  my  father.  The  provisions  of  the 
contract  must,  I  judge,  have  been  liberal,  because  with 
only  a  moderate  amount  of  hours  of  labour  per  week,  I 
was  able  to  secure  quite  a  satisfactory  addition  to  my 
pocket  money. 

In  the  second  year  of  our  sojourn  in  Yonkers,  I  was  sent 
to  a  school  kept  by  a  Dr.  Starr.  The  Doctor  called  his 
school  a  Military  Academy,  and  certain  hours  during  the 
week  were  given  to  drilling.  m  The  sports  of  the  day 
included  baseball,  football,  and  cricket.  The  latter  would 
be  exceptional  in  an  American  school  of  to-day.  The 
baseball  and  the  football  were  of  the  old-fashioned  variety. 
Baseball  has  doubtless  in  the  past  sixty  years  developed 
in  a  most  interesting  fashion,  and  represents  to-day  not 
only  athletic  capacity,  but  the  results  of  scientific  and 
psychological  analysis.  I  may  be  permitted  to  doubt, 
speaking  of  course  with  the  prejudices  of  an  old  man, 
whether  the  "open"  football  of  1856,  under  which  the 
game  was  decided  almost  entirely  by  the  kicking  of  the 
ball,  was  not  a  better  constructed  sport  than  the  football 


1856]  Schoolmates  49 

tussle  of  later  years,  which  is  in  so  large  a  part  a  matter  of 
pushing  combinations  and  of  the  bringing  together  and 
the  dissolution  of  living  pyramids.  Writing  in  1913, 1  am 
reminded  by  my  nephews  that  football  is  now  again  prac 
tically  an  open  game.  The  victory  won  during  the  past 
season  by  the  Army  over  the  Navy  was,  as  they  explain  to 
me,  won  by  the  use  of  the  forward  pass. 

I  do  not  recall  among  my  schoolfellows  of  that  day  any 
boys  who  in  later  life  became  famous. 

William  B.  was  the  pattern  boy  in  the  school  in  behav 
iour  as  well  as  in  scholarship,  and  of  him  great  things  were 
prophesied.  He  possessed,  in  addition  to  scholarly  in 
stincts,  a  fine  spirit  of  adventure.  He  expected  to  investi 
gate  the  world  as  a  travelling  student  and,  with  certain 
literary  ambitions,  he  hoped  in  later  life  to  associate  his 
name  with  scholarly  work  of  continuing  value.  The  Fates 
were  not  kind  to  his  aspirations,  but  I  do  not  now  recall 
what  were  the  special  hindrances  that  interfered  with  his 
plans.  He  was  able  to  secure  but  a  partial  course  in 
college  and  later  he  entered  the  ministry.  When  I  last 
heard  of  him,  nearly  forty  years  later,  he  had  for  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century  held  a  pastorate  of  a  small 
village  on  the  Upper  Hudson.  His  environment  had 
evidently  been  narrow,  and  he  had  apparently  been  able 
to  make  but  little  progress  in  the  development  of  his  own 
intellectual  capacity.  He  brought  into  my  publishing 
office  a  volume  which,  in  place  of  giving  evidence  of  the 
realisation  of  his  early  ambitions,  was  characterised  by 
crudity  and  by  lack  of  knowledge  of  what  had  been  done 
before  in  the  same  direction.  I  hoped  he  had  forgotten  his 
schoolboy  dreams.  It  would  have  been  pathetic  if  he 
had  himself  remembered  how  far  in  actual  life  he  had 
failed  to  realise  these  dreams. 

Philip  R.  was  a  bright,  witty,  but  rather  lazy  minded 
fellow  who  had  the  fortune,  or  the  disadvantage,  of  a 


50  Schoolmates  [1854- 

wealthy  father.  Philip  had  various  plans  of  life,  no  one 
of  which  included  requirement  for  any  continued  work. 
He  said  once  that  he  thought  that  it  would  probably  be 
easiest  to  be  a  preacher.  "A  fashionable  preacher,  mind 
you,  with  a  big  salary  and  with  lots  of  female  parishioners 
to  admire  you  and  to  send  you  presents."  Some  one 
referred  to  the  necessity  of  composing  the  sermons.  ' '  Oh, " 
said  Philip,  "that  is  easy  enough.  All  you  have  to  do 
is  to  choose  a  text  and  then  say,  Beloved  brethren,  and 
then  go  ahead."  His  father  placed  him  in  college  with 
the  idea  of  making  a  finished  gentleman  of  him,  but  young 
Philip  and  the  college  authorities  had  many  differences 
of  opinion,  and  he  was  obliged  to  leave  in  the  middle  of 
his  course.  When  the  property  finally  came  into  his 
hands,  he  managed  to  squander  it  in  an  unnecessarily  brief 
term  of  years,  and  he  died  young. 

Edward  P.  was  an  attractive  companion  who  did  fairly 
good  work  at  school.  I  remember  more  particularly  that 
he  was  an  expert  fisherman,  and  that  he  had  the  shrewdest 
eye  for  finding  shagbark  hickory  nuts.  Edward,  Philip, 
and  myself  were  companions  during  the  play  hours  and 
together  we  canvassed  the  country  back  of  Yonkers  (at 
that  time  a  beautiful  rural  region)  in  fishing  and  nutting 
expeditions,  for  many  miles  out.  We  also  had  some  prac 
tical  experience  on  the  Hudson  River.  On  one  occasion 
we  pooled  together  our  savings  and  with  the  result,  which 
amounted  to  $2.50,  we  purchased  a  small  punt.  Prior  to 
this  purchase,  our  fishing  on  the  river  had  been  done  from 
piers  and  from  the  railroad  viaduct  at  Glen  wood.  The 
possession  of  the  boat  gave  us,  as  we  felt,  the  control  of 
the  whole  vast  sweep  of  the  waters.  We  did  secure  from 
its  use  one  or  two  delightful  voyages  in  the  open.  We 
could  all  swim  and  our  respective  mothers,  in  so  far  as 
they  knew  of  the  excursions,  were  willing,  for  the  sake  of 
the  pleasure,  to  let  us  incur  the  risk.  On  the  third  or 


1856]  The  Sports  of  Boyhood  51 

fourth  of  these  Saturday  trips,  the  fishermen  came  to 
grief.  We  were  well  out  from  the  shore  working  against 
a  head  tide  when  the  boat,  which,  as  may  be  judged  by  the 
modest  price  paid  for  it,  was  by  no  means  new,  began  to 
leak.  The  water  came  in  faster  than  the  tin  cups  and 
the  hats  could  bail  it  out  and  our  craft  sank  beneath  us 
while  we  were  still  some  hundreds  of  feet  from  the  shore. 
We  brought  ourselves  to  the  shore  in  safety,  but  bedraggled 
and  disappointed.  With  the  wreck  had  gone  down  our 
entire  capital,  because  we  had  lost  not  only  the  punt  itself, 
but  our  full  accumulation  of  fishing  tackle  and  of  other 
valuable  boy  properties.  We  never  again  became  boat 
owners ;  and  it  was  probable  that  no  other  occasion  offered 
for  a  purchase  at  so  low  a  price. 

In  the  second  year  of  our  sojourn  in  Yonkers,  the  young 
people  in  our  set  organised  a  debating  society,  which  was 
noteworthy  for  this  early  period  in  including  girls  as  well 
as  boys.  The  moving  spirit  among  the  girls  was  my 
sister  Minnie  and  the  plan  of  the  society  had  in  fact 
originated  with  her.  The  boys  outnumbered  the  girls, 
and  there  were  few  of  the  latter  who  had  the  mental  activ 
ity  to  take  part  in  the  discussions;  but  Minnie's  energy 
was  so  keen  and  so  inexhaustible  that  she  made  good  any 
inertia  on  the  part  of  the  other  girls.  One  of  the  fathers 
was  kind  enough  to  place  at  the  disposal  of  the  society 
an  old  red  barn  situated  on  the  Post  Road  not  very  far 
from  the  Putnam  home.  Our  secretary  was  entrusted 
with  the  key  of  the  barn,  and  we  were  able  to  secure  by 
contributions  from  different  households  such  furniture  as 
was  necessary  for  fitting  up  the  division  utilised  by  the 
society.  In  a  number  of  the  debates,  Henry  A.  and  my 
sister  Minnie  were  pitted  against  each  other,  and  the 
girl  did  not  have  the  worse  of  the  argument.  We  natu 
rally  tackled  some  of  the  old  stock  questions  connected 
with  the  treatment  of  the  negroes,  the  management  of  the 


52  The  Sports  of  Boyhood  [1854- 

Indians,  the  service  rendered  to  the  world  by  Napoleon, 
the  rights  of  women,  etc.  However  incomplete  our  inves 
tigations  of  these  questions  may  have  been,  I  judge  that 
there  was  some  decided  gain  to  what  might  be  called  our 
general  education  in  the  suggestions  brought  out  in  these 
debates  and  in  the  incentive  given  to  reading  up  for 
"ammunition."  The  older  members  of  the  circle  im 
pressed  upon  the  youngsters  some  of  their  own  energy 
and  ambition,  and  those  of  us  who  at  the  outset,  at  least, 
were  not  prepared  to  take  part  in  the  debates  were  al 
lowed  to  make  our  contributions  in  the  form  of  recitations. 
Connected  with  the  society  was  a  local  paper  produced  in 
a  single  manuscript  copy.  Of  this  paper  my  sister  was 
the  editor  and  also  the  chief  contributor. 

Our  home  was  situated  in  what  was  known  as  North 
Yonkers,  which  in  1854  made  a  community  for  itself 
distinct  from  that  of  the  central  village  or  of  the  corre 
sponding  extension  of  Yonkers  on  the  south.  We  had  a 
few  friends,  however,  at  the  farther  end  of  the  village, 
among  whom  the  most  important  were  the  Clevelands. 
Cyrus  Cleveland  was  a  produce  merchant  who  later  dur 
ing  the  years  of  the  Civil  War  rendered  good  service  to 
the  government  as  an  inspector  of  the  provisions  that  were 
being  purchased  for  the  use  of  the  troops  at  the  front. 
My  father  told  me  that  it  was  through  Cleveland's  pluck 
and  persistency  that  thousands  of  barrels  of  pork  and 
beef  from  the  supplies  furnished  by  the  contractors  were 
condemned  as  unfit  to  be  eaten.  It  was,  unfortunately, 
the  case  that  even  among  the  army  officials  themselves 
who  were  directly  responsible  for  the  protection  of  the 
soldiers  there  were  not  a  few  men  hastily  selected  from 
civil  life  who  were  ready  to  utilise  their  posts  to  make  for 
tunes  for  themselves  at  the  expense  of  the  soldiers.  For 
tunes  were  made  not  only  out  of  rotten  beef  and  decayed 
pork,  but  from  shoddy  blankets,  flimsy  overcoats,  paper 


Cyrus  Cleveland  53 

soled  shoes,  and  other  fraudulent  supplies.  The  men 
who  brought  themselves  into  sharp  antagonism  with  the 
fraudulent  purveyors  and  with  the  still  more  rascally 
officials  who  were  in  collusion  with  these  purveyors  to 
divide  the  spoils,  were  men  who  had  to  do  fighting  as 
sharp  as,  and  often  much  more  distasteful  than,  that  which 
was  being  done  at  the  front.  They  ran  the  risk  not  only 
of  unpopularity,  but  of  libel  suits,  and  sometimes  even  of 
personal  violence.  It  was  not  always  easy  in  the  face  of 
a  network  of  lying  officials  and  suborned  witnesses  for  the 
honest  civil  inspector  or  efficient  army  officer  to  make  good 
his  case  befpre  the  higher  authorities  in  Washington.  If 
he  could  not  maintain  his  contention,  he  ran  the  risk  of 
being  classed  as  a  grumbler  or  " sorehead"  and  of  having 
his  own  reputation  brought  into  question  and  his  career 
blocked. 

Cleveland  stood  the  test  and  maintained  his  position. 
He  served  his  country  well,  and  at  the  end  of  the  war 
terminated  his  service  a  poor  man,  with  the  necessity  of 
beginning  business  life  over  again.  He  and  my  father 
were  close  friends  and  co-workers  in  nearly  all  the  public- 
spirited  undertakings  in  which  my  father  was  interested. 
Some  years  after  my  father's  death,  Cleveland  came 
into  my  office  with  the  question,  "Is  there  a  Putnam  to 
spare?"  He  knew  that  there  were  several  sons  in  the 
circle,  but  after  our  removal  from  Yonkers  he  had  lost 
track  of  the  details  of  the  family  history,  and  was  not  sure 
how  old  many  of  the  boys  might  be  who  were  not  already, 
like  myself  and  my  next  brother  Bishop,  fully  occupied 
with  publishing  responsibilities.  He  wanted  a  confiden 
tial  clerk  and  he  considered  it  more  important  for  his 
purpose  that  the  boy  should  be  of  stock  that  he  could 
trust  than  that  he  should  already  have  secured  business 
experience.  Cleveland  was  at  that  time  an  insurance 
adjuster,  and  had  built  up  for  himself  an  honourable 


54  The  Village  Institute  Im 

position  in  this  special  class  of  business,  which  is  properly  to 
be  ranked  as  a  profession.  I  was  glad  to  be  able  to  place 
at  his  disposal  my  brother  Kingman,  who  was  just  getting 
through  with  his  work  in  the  City  College.  He  was  sent 
down  to  Cleveland's  office  on  trial,  found  favour  with  his 
chief,  married  later  his  chief's  ward,  and  came,  in  the 
natural  course  of  affairs,  to  be  the  head  of  the  concern 
founded  by  Cleveland. 

Mention  has  been  made  in  the  Memoir  of  my  father 
of  his  own  active  work  in  organising  a  village  library  and 
in  carrying  on  in  connection  with  this  institution  a  series 
of  lecture  courses.  The  lecturers  brought  to  Yonkers, 
largely  at  his  own  personal  solicitation,  were  most  fre 
quently  guests  at  our  house.  As  a  result,  we  children  came 
to  have  a  personal  impression  of  representative  citizens 
like  Beecher,  Bethune,  Storrs,  Wendell  Phillips,  Curtis, 
Hale,  and  many  others.  Curtis  came  to  the  house  also 
from  time  to  time  in  connection  with  the  business  of 
Putnam's  Magazine.  He  was  at  that  time  quite  a  young 
ster,  but  I  remember  even  then  being  impressed  by  the 
maturity  and  finish  of  his  talk  and  by  a  certain  grace  of 
dignity  and  manner  which  made  me  think  of  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley.  (The  wise  mother  was  at  that  time  giving  to  us 
older  children  some  reading  in  Addison.)  Another  of  the 
younger  men  who  came  to  the  house  with  matters  belong 
ing  to  the  publishing  office  was  Frederick  Beecher  Per 
kins,  a  nephew  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  My  father  and 
others  who  knew  him  spoke  with  large  hopefulness  as  to 
the  promise  of  his  career.  It  was  an  expectation  which 
was,  however,  never  fully  carried  out.  Perkins  remained 
until  his  death,  forty  years  later,  a  clever  man  who  was  on 
the  point  of  doing  noteworthy  things  but  who  never  quite 
arrived.  He  was  for  a  time  assistant  editor  of  the  Monthly 
and  contributed  to  this  some  stories  and  sketches  which  at 
tracted  attention,  the  most  noteworthy  being  "The  Three 


i856]  The  Election  of  1856  55 

Conversations  with  Miss  Chester."  It  was  from  Perkins 
that  I  received  my  first  lessons  in  chess,  and  I  have  in 
later  years  had  occasion  to  credit  to  chess  so  many  pleas 
urable  hours  that  I  certainly  owe  a  word  of  appreciation  to 
the  man  who  was  kind  enough  to  trouble  himself  with  the 
instruction  of  a  youngster. 

In  1856,  I  came  first  into  touch  with  the  excitement  of  a 
national  election.  My  father  was,  as  has  been  related  in 
my  Memoir,  as  an  old-time  anti-slavery  worker,  an  earnest 
supporter  of  Fremont.  The  statement  of  principles  which 
at  the  National  Convention  was  framed  into  a  platform 
for  the  new  Republican  party,  had  been  first  brought  into 
print  in  an  article  by  Parke  Godwin,  published  in  Putnam1  s 
Monthly  in  January,  1856.  It  was  on  the  strength  of 
this  article  that  Godwin  was  asked  to  serve  as  secretary 
of  the  platform  committee  at  the  famous  convention  in 
Cincinnati  in  which  the  Republican  party  effected  its 
organisation. 

Taking  into  consideration  the  more  or  less  incongruous 
elements  out  of  which  the  new  party  had  been  created,  it 
is  surprising  that  in  this  its  first  fight  for  the  control  of 
the  national  government  it  came  so  near  to  success.  I 
believe  that  the  popular  vote  secured  for  General  Fre 
mont  was  larger  than  that  which  gave  the  election  to 
Buchanan.  Without  possessing  any  large  personal  know 
ledge  of  the  nature  of  the  issues  involved,  I  was  by  inheri 
tance  an  anti-slavery  Republican.  Among  my  immediate 
schoolfellows  and  other  friends  there  was  naturally  a 
division  of  political  sympathies.  Edward  P.,  whose  father 
had  once  run  as  a  Democratic  candidate  for  governor 
of  Maine,  did  his  shouting  for  Buchanan;  Edward  H., 
whose  father  was  an  old-time  Whig  and  was  now  asso 
ciated  with  the  "  know-nothings,"  belonged  to  the  minority 
group  of  boys  who  were  burning  barrels  for  Fillmore  and 
Donelson,  while  Philip  R.  gave  me  help  with  my  Republican 


56  The  Question  of  Slavery  [1854- 

barrels.  As  between  the  boys,  the  contest  was  good- 
natured  enough,  but  I  can  still  remember  the  impression 
of  surprise  that  came  to  me  in  noticing  the  bitterness  of 
feeling  and  of  talk  between  many  of  the  men  of  Yonkers 
who  had  heretofore  lived  in  friendly  relations  with  each 
other,  a  bitterness  that  increased  as  the  campaign  went  on, 
and  that  as  a  fact  presaged  the  cleavage  of  the  Civil  War. 
We  Republican  boys  had  to  share  the  disappointment  of 
our  fathers  when  the  count  of  November  declared  that 
Buchanan  was  elected,  but  four  years  later,  with  the 
triumph  of  Lincoln,  some  of  us  felt  that  we  had  gotten 
square  with  our  Democratic  opponents. 

Looking  back  now  over  the  history  of  the  war  period 
it  seems  safe  to  conclude  that  notwithstanding  the  great 
disappointment  that  came  to  the  anti-slavery  workers  of 
1856,  their  cause  would  not  have  been  furthered  by  the 
election  of  Fremont.  The  man  had  in  his  personality 
much  that  was  attractive  and  that  commended  him  to  his 
fellow-citizens,  but  his  later  career  showed  that  he  did  not 
possess  the  natural  force  or  the  stability  of  character  for 
the  leadership  of  the  Republic  at  a  time  when  the  great 
issue  had  to  be  fought  out. 

It  was  also  the  case  that  "in  1856  the  North  was  not 
sufficiently  at  one  in  its  own  conclusions,  and  the  anti- 
slavery  groups  were  too  scattered  and  not  well  enough 
organised  to  be  in  a  position  to  direct  wisely  the  policy 
of  the  nation.  The  election  of  Fremont  would  doubtless 
have  raised  a  barrier  to  the  political  aggressions  of  the 
South  that  had  been  proceeding  with  hardly  a  check  over 
a  long  series  of  years,  but  it  would  probably  have  resulted 
in  a  fresh  series  of  compromises  that  would  have  crystal 
lised  for  another  quarter  of  a  century  the  slavery  con 
ditions  and  that  might  easily  have  opened  up  further 
territories  for  the  extension  of  slavery. 

Four  years  later,  the  steady  increase  of  Southern  ag- 


Winter  Sports  57 

gression  had  heightened  the  indignation  and  strengthened 
the  anti-slavery  convictions  of  the  North.  The  utter 
ances  of  Seward,  of  Chase,  and  last,  but  in  their  influence 
upon  public  opinion  by  far  the  most  important,  those  of 
Lincoln,  had  made  clear  to  great  masses  of  citizens  outside 
of  the  circles  which  had  formerly  listened  to  Garrison,  to 
Phillips,  and  to  Beecher,  that  slavery  was  incompatible  with 
the  continued  existence  of  the  government.  The  major 
ity  of  the  people  of  the  North,  while  coming  to  the  decision 
that  slavery  must  first  be  closely  restricted  and  must 
finally  be  exterminated  from  the  continent,  were  at  the 
beginning  of  the  war  prepared  to  do  what  might  be 
necessary  for  a  just  and  adequate  recognition  of  the 
property  claims  and  of  the  constitutional  rights  of  the 
slave-holders.  In  1860,  such  recognition  could  have  been 
secured  by  the  South,  and  in  this  way  the  great  communi 
ties  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  Line  could  have  been 
saved  from  the  ruin  that  was  brought  upon  them  by  the 
war.  After  the  sacrifices  of  four  years  of  war,  it  was  no 
longer  possible  to  secure  from  the  North  a  majority  opinion 
in  favour  of  compensation  for  slave-owners. 

Yonkers  was  a  village  of  hills,  and  coasting  formed, 
therefore,  an  important  part  of  winter  amusements.  I 
remember  a  bargain  that  I  was  able  to  complete  on  one 
Saturday  afternoon,  which  made  it  possible  for  the  little 
sister  Edith  to  take  her  part  in  the  sport.  For  some  reason 
or  other,  possibly  because  she  had  been  considered  too 
young,  the  child  had  not  up  to  that  time  been  provided 
with  a  sled.  My  pocket  money  was  exhausted,  but  I 
owned  a  carpenter's  rule.  I  looked  about  among  the  boys 
in  my  acquaintance  for  some  one  who  had  a  sled  small 
enough  in  size  and  correspondingly  low  in  price  to  make  a 
fair  offset  to  the  rule.  The  chance  of  finding  such  a  sled, 
and  at  the  same  time  of  finding  an  owner  who  might  pre 
fer  the  rule,  was,  of  course,  but  slight,  but  the  two  chances 


58  Winter  Sports  [1854- 

did  occur  together.  I  secured  in  exchange  for  the  rule  a 
sled  which,  for  the  time  at  least,  met  the  little  sister's 
requirement  and  made  her  one  of  the  coasting  party. 

Skating  there  was  also  in  plenty.  The  Saw-Mill  River 
(the  Yonkers  people,  or  at  least  the  boys,  were  apt  to 
forget  the  historic  and  more  beautiful  name  of  Nepperhan) , 
which  for  fishing  and  for  pool-bathing  made  so  large  a 
contribution  to  our  summer  amusement,  in  the  winter 
time  obligingly  spread  itself  over  certain  low-lying  mead 
ows  and  gave  us  acres  of  fairly  effective  ice.  It  is,  I 
think,  a  very  general  impression  that  with  the  progress  of 
the  centuries,  the  winters  grew  milder.  I  Imow  that  our 
fathers  were  in  the  habit  of  making  reference  to  the  ice 
seasons  of  the  earlier  years  and  to  the  times  when  New 
York  was  so  completely  snow-bound  that  for  days  traffic 
was  in  large  part  suspended.  The  actual  blocking  of  the 
harbour  with  ice  has  hardly  occurred  within  the  last  twenty- 
five  years,  while  such  blocking  of  the  streets  as  now  and 
then  comes  up  can  (with  the  noteworthy  exception  of  the 
time  of  the  great  blizzard,  March  12,  1888)  safely  be 
debited  against  the  slovenly  management  of  the  street- 
cleaning  department.  It  was  certainly  the  case  that 
during  these  early  fifties,  the  Hudson  River  managed 
to  tie  itself  up  with  ice  at  points  as  far  south  as  Yonkers 
more  frequently  than  I  can  recall  in  later  years.  At  least 
twice  during  the  time  of  our  Yonkers  sojourn,  it  came  to 
be  practicable  to  cross  the  river  on  the  ice  to  the  village 
of  Closter  which  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  Palisades.  On 
one  of  these  occasions,  I  managed  (certainly  without  the 
knowledge  of  my  mother)  to  be  of  the  party.  The  jour 
ney  was  toilsome  because  the  ice  was  rough  and  because 
also  holes  or  cracks  in  the  floes  made  frequent  detours 
necessary. 

The  home  of  Washington  Irving  was  a  few  miles  north 
of  our  cottage  on  the  Post  Road,  and  the  family  horse  (one 


1856]  Irving  59 

of  a  long  series  of  patient,  although  not  very  effective, 
beasts)  was  put  to  use  from  time  to  time  for  a  drive  or  a 
sleigh-ride  to  Sunnyside.  My  sister  Minnie  and  myself 
were  more  than  once  companions  on  such  an  excursion,  and 
I  have  a  definite  memory  of  the  kindly  expression  of  the 
old  gentleman's  face  as  he  sat  behind  his  big  desk  in  the 
little  study,  or  as  he  stood  at  the  door  of  the  study,  which 
opened  directly  out  on  the  lawn,  waving  his  hand  good-bye. 
My  brother  Irving  was  also  naturally  taken  to  visit  his 
godfather,  but  he  was  too  young  to  retain  any  direct  mem 
ory  of  Sunnyside.  I  remember  one  Sunday  afternoon 
when  my  father  was  busy  arranging  some  of  Mr.  Irving' s 
papers,  the  old  gentleman  took  the  pains  to  give  me  some 
word  about  his  own  childhood.  Irving  was  born  in  his 
father's  family  home  in  Pearl  Street  in  1783.  His  mother 
told  him  some  years  later,  when  he  was  old  enough  to  be 
interested  in  historical  events  and  personages,  that  when 
he  was  a  year  old,  the  nurse,  taking  him  out  in  his  baby- 
carriage,  saw  at  the  corner  of  Broadway  General  Washing 
ton  passing  by  on  horseback.  The  nurse,  holding  up  the 
little  boy,  called  out  to  the  General  that  here  was  a  boy 
that  had  been  named  after  him,  and  she  hoped  that  the 
General  would  be  willing  to  give  the  boy  his  blessing. 
Little  Washingtons  were  not  so  plenty  in  1784  as  they 
became  in  later  years,  and  the  General  was  quite  ready  to 
delay  his  ride  for  the  purpose  of  giving  a  greeting  to  his 
little  namesake.  He  took  the  boy  up  on  the  saddle  and 
placing  his  hand  upon  the  little  one's  head  gave  him  a 
formal  blessing.  I  looked  up  with  interest  at  the  head 
that  had  been  touched  by  Washington,  and  then  found 
myself  perplexed  at  Mr.  Irving's  word  that  I  should  not 
see  the  spot  on  which  the  General's  hand  had  rested.  I 
spoke  to  my  father  afterwards  about  the  incident,  and 
he  said,  "  Why  you  stupid,  don't  you  know  that  Mr.  Irving 
wears  a  wig?" 


60  Glimpses  of  Authors  [1854 

In  the  last  week  in  November,  1859,  I  made  a  final  visit 
with  my  father  to  Sunnyside,  on  the  day  on  which  his  old 
friend  Irving  was  being  buried  in  the  little  graveyard  in 
Sleepy  Hollow,  the  memory  of  which  is  perpetuated  in 
one  of  Irving's  most  characteristic  sketches.  I  recall  the 
picture  presented  under  the  beautiful  grey  sunshine  of 
the  autumn  day  by  the  old  Sleepy  Hollow  Church,  with 
its  background  of  great  trees,  the  greensward,  the  moss- 
covered  venerable  tombstones,  and  the  great  gathering  of 
vehicles  from  all  parts  of  the  county.  Irving  had  made  a 
place  for  himself  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  as  one  of  the 
world's  authors;  and  it  was  evident  from  the  affectionate 
and  sympathetic  tributes  of  his  neighbours  that  he  had  also 
impressed  upon  all  who  knew  him  the  charm  of  his  gentle 
and  winning  personality. 

My  eldest  sister  and  myself,  as  is  common  with  children 
generally,  formed  more  plans  than  we  were  able  to  carry 
out.  One  of  these  covered  the  building  of  a  greenhouse 
as  a  birthday  present  to  the  mother.  We  took  some  les 
sons  in  brick-laying,  and  we  progressed  sufficiently  with 
the  work  to  make  the  brick  foundations  for  the  build 
ing,  after  destroying  for  the  purpose  a  pretty  flower 
bed  that  lay  under  the  parlour  windows.  Whether  the 
difficulty  was  lack  of  persistence  or  lack  of  pocket  money 
I  do  not  now  recall,  but  the  superstructure  was  never 
completed  and  those  open  foundations  remained  until 
our  departure  from  the  house  as  a  reminder  of  the  ill- 
advised  scheme. 

I  was  permitted  from  time  to  time  in  between  schooldays 
to  accompany  my  father  to  the  office  in  New  York,  where 
I  secured  an  outside  impression  at  least  of  some  of  the  de 
tails  of  the  publishing  business.  Sitting  with  a  book  in  a 
corner  of  my  father's  office,  I  obtained  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  noteworthy  people  among  his  visitors,  such 
as  Irving,  Cooper,  Bayard  Taylor,  Mrs.  Kirkland,  and 


1852]  The  Publishing  Office  61 

others,  and  I  now  and  then  listened  to  conversations, 
portions  of  which  I  could  understand  and  found  in 
teresting.  My  father  was  at  the  time,  as  he  had  been 
since  1837,  active  in  connection  with  the  attempts  to 
bring  about  international  copyright,  and  I  heard  in  1852 
some  talk  between  himself,  Mr.  Bryant,  Irenseus  Prime, 
and  other  leaders  of  the  Copyright  League  in  regard  to  a 
copyright  treaty  that  was  then  in  train  in  Washington. 
It  was  forty  years,  however,  before  an  international 
arrangement  for  the  protection  of  literary  and  artistic 
productions  was  finally  arrived  at,  and  the  result  was 
secured  not  by  treaty,  but  through  the  enactment  of  a 
statute  by  Congress.  During  the  same  year,  1852,  my 
father  introduced  me  to  a  tall,  good-looking  man  in  the 
dress  of  a  naval  officer.  ' 'Haven,"  said  he,  "you  want 
to  remember  this  gentleman.  He  tells  us  that  he  has  dis 
covered  a  new  people  of  whom,  in  the  course  of  the  next 
half  century,  we  shall  hear  a  good  deal. "  The  tall  officer 
was  Commodore  Perry  who  had  been  received  by  the 
Tycoon  of  Japan  and  who  had  secured  for  the  commerce  of 
the  United  States  privileges  that  had  thus  far  been  accorded 
to  the  representatives  of  no  other  nation.  It  proved,  of 
course,  impossible  to  refuse  to  Great  Britain,  France,  and 
Germany  facilities  that  had  been  conceded  to  the  United 
States.  I  judge,  therefore,  that  the  visit  of  Perry  may  be 
considered  as  marking  the  acceptance  by  Japan  of  rela 
tions  with  the  outer  world  and  the  beginning  of  the  career 
as  a  member  of  the  world's  family  of  this  active  and  en 
terprising  nation  of  the  Pacific.  My  father  published 
Perry's  account  of  his  visit,  which  was  in  its  way  an  epoch- 
marking  book.  It  is  of  interest  to  remember  that  in  the 
lifetime  of  one  man  a  state  has  emerged  from  a  chrysalis 
condition  of  seclusion  and  has  impressed  itself  so  emphat 
ically  upon  the  affairs  of  the  world. 

One  of  the  books  that   I  picked  up  in  my  father's 


62  The  Publishing  Office  [1854- 

office  a  year  or  more  later  was  Layard's  Nineveh  and  Baby- 
Ion,  the  American  edition  of  which  was  issued  by  G.  P. 
Putnam  &  Co.  I  was  attracted  first  by  the  novel  illus 
trations,  and  later  by  the  dramatic  narrative.  The  ruins 
of  Nineveh  had,  as  I  then  learned,  been  discovered  by 
Layard  as  far  back  as  1847,  but  it  was  not  until  the  opera 
tions  in  1853  and  the  publication  of  his  second  work, 
Discoveries  in  the  Ruins  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon,  that  the 
record  was  placed  before  the  general  public  and  that  the 
full  importance  of  his  discoveries  came  to  be  realised  not 
only  by  scholars  but  by  the  great  circle  of  unscholarly 
readers.  I  judge  that  this  distinctive  work  of  Layard  was 
not  paralleled  until  the  brilliant  investigations  carried 
on  by  George  Smith  in  1872-73-74.  I  remember 
that  in  1873  the  London  Telegraph  was  bringing  into 
print  from  the  correspondence  of  George  Smith,  in 
columns  parallel  to  those  containing  the  news  of  the 
day,  the  records  of  the  war  and  of  the  glories  of  the 
kings  of  Babylonia  about  6000  years  back.  About  forty 
years  later,  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons  had  the  opportunity  of 
bringing  into  print  another  work  which  made  a  distinctive 
contribution  to  the  history  of  Babylonia  and  of  the  world. 
This  was  the  account  of  the  Temple  of  Nippur,  which  had 
been  discovered  in  an  expedition  made  by  the  Rev.  John  P. 
Peters  in  the  excavations  that  were  completed  some  years 
later  by  his  successors.  As  a  result  of  the  explorations 
initiated  by  Peters  in  the  region  of  which  the  ancient  city 
of  Ur  was  the  capital,  the  recorded  history  of  the  world  was, 
I  understand,  extended  back  to  something  over  6000  B.C. 
I  remember  my  father's  report  to  me  in  1854  that  ne 
had  been  successful  in  securing  from  the  company  that  had 
been  organised  to  carry  on  the  World's  Fair  in  New  York 
the  contract  for  the  illustrated  catalogue.  He  explained 
to  me  that  the  publisher  who  had  issued  the  similar 
catalogue  for  the  London  Exhibition  of  1851  had  made  a 


1856]       The  Crystal  Palace  of  New  York         63 

very  satisfactory  profit  on  the  undertaking.  The  New 
York  Committee,  comprising  some  of  the  more  public- 
spirited  citizens  of  the  city,  included  a  number  of  personal 
friends  of  my  father's.  It  proved  difficult  to  secure  within 
four  years  of  the  close  of  the  English  Exposition  the  meas 
ure  of  interest  that  was  necessary  on  the  part  of  the 
important  states  of  Europe,  sufficient  to  bring  from  these 
states  fairly  representative  exhibits.  The  expense  of 
getting  such  exhibits  across  the  Atlantic  was  considerable, 
and  there  was  not  yet  sufficient  certainty  of  profitable 
sales  in  the  United  States  to  encourage  the  manufacturers 
of  artistic  and  costly  goods  to  incur  the  very  considerable 
expense  of  the  shipment  of  such  goods  for  the  New  York 
Exposition.  The  ground  available  for  the  building  was 
restricted,  and  the  managers,  working  without  experience, 
were  seriously  delayed  in  their  undertaking,  while  un 
looked-for  difficulties  cropped  up  on  the  financial  side  of 
the  venture.  In  the  face  of  these  difficulties,  the  New 
York  Exposition  may  be  described  as  a  creditable  under 
taking.  The  building,  placed  in  what  is  now  in  part 
Bryant  Park  and  in  part  the  site  of  the  New  York  Library, 
was  constructed  of  glass  and  steel  and  followed  the  general 
lines  of  the  plan  pursued  successfully  by  Paxton  in  London, 
and  it  was,  I  believe,  considered  an  architectural  success. 
The  Exposition  was,  however,  brought  to  an  untimely 
conclusion  by  the  destruction  by  fire  of  the  Palace.  The 
fire  broke  out  in  a  corner  storage  room,  and  whatever 
other  advantages  might  be  possessed  by  a  structure  of 
steel  and  glass,  it  was  evident  that  it  could  offer  but  the 
slightest  possible  resistance  to  an  assault  by  heat.  The 
steel  crumbled  and  the  glass  fell  in.  The  managers  had 
on  their  hands  the  ruins  of  a  building  and  a  long  series  of 
claims  on  the  part  of  the  exhibitors  for  the  value  of  the 
property  that  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  Exposition 
Company  had  no  resource  but  to  go  into  bankruptcy. 


64  The  Atlantic  Cable  [1855- 

My  father's  loss  on  his  great  illustrated  catalogue  proved 
for  him  serious,  and  absorbed  resources  that  two  years 
later  might  possibly  have  saved  his  firm  from  downfall  in 
the  panic  of  1857. 

Among  the  New  Yorkers  whom  I  was  introduced  to  in 
my  father's  office  was  Cyrus  W.  Field.  Field  was  a  paper 
manufacturer  whom  my  father  had  come  to  know  first 
in  business  relations,  but  with  whom  he  came  later  into 
close  and  friendly  relations.  It  was  the  imagination  and 
persistence  of  Field  that  brought  into  existence  the  first 
Atlantic  cable,  and  while  the  experiments  with  this  cable 
in  August,  1858,  were  themselves  to  be  classed  as  a  failure, 
the  work  foreshadowed  a  great  revolution  in  the  methods 
of  communication,  a  revolution  the  influence  of  which  on 
international  relations,  on  commerce,  on  ideas,  and  on 
kinship  can  hardly  be  .exaggerated.  Field  was  a  man 
whose  large  business  experience,  an  experience  which  in 
cluded  serious  business  misfortunes,  could  not  impair 
the  hopefulness  of  his  imagination  or  the  persistency  of  his 
optimism.  In  the  face  of  all  kinds  of  discouragement, 
scientific,  commercial,  and  governmental,  he  accomplished 
the  task  of  collecting  the  dollars  required  for  the  floating 
of  his  company  and  for  the  manufacturing  of  successive 
cables.  He  finally  succeeded  in  securing  for  the  experi 
ment  the  cp-operation  of  the  governments  of  the  United 
States  and  of  Great  Britain. 

At  the  time  when  the  first  cable  was  in  readiness,  there 
was  no  vessel  afloat  on  the  Atlantic  of  sufficient  capacity 
to  carry  the  entire  mass,  and  it  was  necessary  to  divide 
between  two  steamships  the  twenty-eight  hundred  miles 
(more  or  less)  of  wire.  The  British  Government  gave 
for  the  purpose  the  service  of  the  steam-frigate  Agamem 
non,  while  from  the  American  navy  came  the  Niagara. 
The  two  vessels,  each  carrying  one  half  of  the  cable,  met 
in  mid- Atlantic,  and  when  the  two  ends  had  been  spliced, 


i857l  The  Atlantic  Cable  65 

they  started  respectively  for  Ireland  and  for  Nova  Scotia. 
The  first  splice  proved  unsuccessful,  so  that  it  was  neces 
sary  for  the  vessels  to  come  together  again,  when  cable 
number  one  was  finally  placed  in  position.  A  few  mes 
sages,  very  imperfect,  were  flashed  across  the  Atlantic, 
and  then,  after  some  feeble  "  peeps,"  the  communication 
ceased.  Cable  number  one  had  to  be  abandoned  as  use 
less,  and  the  money  invested  in  it  could  only  be  closed  off 
as  a  loss. 

With  the  benefit,  however,  of  the  experience  secured 
in  this  first  attempt,  Field  again  went  to  work,  collected 
further  money,  and  organised  a  fresh  company,  which 
constructed  a  second  and  a  stronger  cable,  and  with  the 
use  of  the  steamer  Great  Eastern,  cable  number  two  was 
finally  placed  in  position.  A  longer  series  of  messages 
were  exchanged,  making  clear  to  the  electricians  and  the 
others  who  had  been  studying  the  problem  that  the  scheme 
was  really  practicable,  but  after  a  few  months  communica 
tion  again  ceased.  Something  had  gone  wrong  either 
with  the  coating  of  the  cable  or  with  the  wires  carrying 
the  current  and  the  discouragement  of  this  failure  was 
sufficient  to  block  the  undertaking  for  no  less  than  eight 
years.  It  was  not  until  1866  that  it  proved  practicable 
for  the  promoters  of  the  undertaking,  with  whom  the  in 
domitable  Field  was  still  the  leader,  to  bring  to  successful 
completion  the  third  attempt.  I  recall  the  doub tings 
of  certain  skeptical  journalists  of  the  time  who  contended 
that  there  never  had  been  any  real  messages  and  that  the 
words  given  to  the  press  from  Nova  Scotia  by  (the  more 
or  less  mythical)  De  Sauty  had  been  concocted  for  stock 
jobbing  purposes. 

The  fact  that  during  the  period  of  the  Civil  War,  1861- 
65,  there  was  no  cable  communication  between  America 
and  Great  Britain,  affected  in  many  ways  the  relations  of 
public  opinion  in  the  two  countries.  It  is  quite  possible, 


66  The  Atlantic  Cable  [1855-1857] 

for  instance,  that  if  immediate  communication  had  been 
practicable  during  the  burst  of  indignation  that  followed 
the  seizure  of  Mason  and  Slidell,  in  November,  1861,  war 
could  hardly  have  been  averted. 


The  Trembles  of  1657 

IN  1857,  came  business  troubles  for  the  country  at  large 
and  for  my  father's  firm,  troubles  which  have  been 
described  with  sufficient  detail  in  the  earlier  memoirs. 
These  necessarily  brought  about  a  material  change  in 
the  plans  and  in  the  possibilities  for  the  home  life  of  our 
family,  which  at  that  time  comprised  eight  youngsters. 
The  blow  to  my  father  caused  by  the  undermining  of  a 
business  with  which  he  had  so  closely  identified  himself, 
and  for  the  future  of  which  he  had  had  such  legitimate 
and  apparently  well  assured  hopefulness,  was  a  very 
serious  one. 

I  can  recall  the  way  in  which  he  appeared  to  age  rapidly 
during  the  calm  months  of  the  summer  and  autumn  of 
that  disastrous  year.  There  was,  however,  no  slackening 
in  his  energies,  and  in  fact  he  was  working  with  double 
power.  He  had  a  complicated  series  of  business  matters 
to  adjust,  and  the  labour  fell  almost  entirely  upon  himself. 
A  full  measure  of  the  responsibility  for  the  disasters  must 
rest  upon  the  memory  of  his  young  partner  who  was 
drowned  on  the  Fourth  of  July.  It  was  only  after  his 
death  that  my  father  discovered  how  muddled  the  finan 
cial  management  had  been  and  discovered,  further,  that 
the  resources  of  the  firm  had  been  utilised  in  connection 
with  certain  individual  speculations  of  the  junior. 

67 


68  The  Troubles  of  1857  [1857- 

Mr.  Lowell  Mason,  who  accepted,  at  a  considerable 
personal  sacrifice,  the  troublesome  post  of  assignee,  was  an 
old  friend  of  my  father's  and  did  what  was  in  his  power  to 
smooth  the  difficulties  of  the  situation.  In  connection, 
however,  with  the  general  undermining  of  credit  through 
out  the  country  and  with  the  suspension  of  the  banks,  it 
proved  impossible  to  utilise  to  any  substantial  advantage 
the  resources  of  the  concern.  These  had  to  be  sacrificed 
at  a  nominal  value  and  when  the  creditors  had  received 
their  sixty  cents  on  the  dollar,  there  was  practically 
nothing  left  as  capital  for  the  publisher.  At  the  age  of 
forty-three,  he  had  to  begin  his  business  life  over  again 
and  to  make  the  foundations  of  a  new  concern  while  sup 
porting  a  large  family. 

The  Yonkers  home  had  been  made  the  property  of  my 
mother.  At  the  time  of  this  gift  to  her,  there  was  no 
question  of  the  entire  solvency  of  the  firm.  Mr.  Mason 
advised  her  that  the  house  was  hers  by  law  and  in  equity 
and  that  no  creditors  could  criticise  her  retention  of  it. 
She  refused,  however,  to  believe  that  it  was  right  for  her 
to  retain  property  that  had  been  my  father's  as  long  as 
any  moneys  were  still  owed  by  him  to  creditors.  My 
father  fully  approved  of  this  view  and  the  house  was, 
therefore,  turned  over  to  the  assignee  for  the  benefit  of  the 
creditors.  •  I  have  a  very  appreciative  recollection  of  my 
mother 's  pluck,  patience,  and  cheerfulness  during  this 
troublesome  time.  She  kept  the  household  going  as 
cheerily  as  if  it  were  not  that  of  a  ruined  man.  The 
children's  lessons  were  not  permitted  to  be  broken  in  upon 
excepting  in  so  far  as  I  was  utilised  at  certain  hours  in  the 
New  York  office  as  a  special  messenger  boy  for  my  father. 
For  the  husband  she  always  had  the  cheeriest  possible 
welcome  on  his  return  from  his  black  days  in  the  city,  at 
a  time  when  such  welcome  must  have  been  for  him  of 
special  value. 


1858]  The  Home  at  Melrose  69 

In  October,  1857,  the  family  migrated  to  a  cottage  in 
the  township  of  Morrisania  lying  about  a  mile  east  of 
High  Bridge.  For  the  children  the  change  was  not  in 
itself  a  disaster.  Fond  as  we  had  been  of  Yonkers,  there 
was  always  an  interest  and  novelty  in  going  to  a  new  place 
and  the  new  home  presented  not  a  few  fascinations  of  its 
own.  The  house  had  been  built,  through  some  whim  of  its 
first  owner,  all  in  one  story  or  on  one  floor.  The  children 
understood  that  it  was  on  the  model  of  a  French  chateau, 
but  I  doubt  whether  any  chateau  in  France  was  ever 
constructed  in  so  weird  or  so  fantastic  a  fashion.  On  the 
west  side,  a  big  piazza  overlooked  an  inlet  of  the  Harlem 
and  the  hills  beyond.  On  the  east,  the  house  was  shut 
in  from  the  village  of  Morrisania,  lying  a  mile  beyond,  by  a 
ridge  and  a  slope  of  woodland.  The  ground  included  no 
less  than  seven  acres  which  were  largely  covered  by  the 
original  forest  trees.  This  presented  a  most  fascinating 
wilderness  for  the  explorations  of  the  children.  There 
was  a  spacious  stable,  which,  in  the  absence  of  any  horses, 
gave  the  youngsters  an  additional  playground.  There 
was  also  a  good-sized  garden  for  which  I  promptly  made 
with  my  father  a  leasing  under  which  I  secured  in  the 
course  of  a  couple  of  years  a  substantial  return.  The  bit 
of  forest  land  actually  included  hickory  trees  so  that  our 
nutting  could  be  done  on  our  own  ground.  Nearer  to 
the  house  were  some  old-fashioned  but  very  satisfactory 
cherry  trees.  The  difficulty  with  the  home  as  an  abiding 
place  for  children  was  the  fact  that  the  entire  country 
suffered  at  that  time  from  malarious  influences  and  this 
particular  house,  built  without  any  cellar,  increased  not  a 
little  the  risk  of  malarious  trouble  for  those  who  lived  in 
it.  As  a  fact,  several  of  the  children  did  have  their  health 
impaired  by  this  malarious  influence. 

Minnie  and  myself  went  to  school  in  the  city,  taking  the 
train  from  the  station  named  Melrose.  This  meant  a 


70  MacMullen's  School  [1857- 

morning  walk  of  perhaps  three  quarters  of  a  mile.  The 
school  selected  for  myself  was  kept  by  John  MacMullen, 
who  was  an  old-time  friend  of  my  father's  and  who  was 
with  my  father  a  member  of  the  Century  Club.  Mac- 
Mullen  was  Irish  by  birth  but  had  come  to  the  country 
as  a  youngster  and  had  secured  his  degree  from  Columbia 
College.  He  remained  active  among  the  alumni  of  the 
college  and  closely  identified  with  its  interests  until  his 
death  in  1894.  After  graduating  from  Columbia  and  doing 
some  service  as  a  teacher,  he  was  made  librarian  of  the 
Society  Library,  a  post  that  he  held  for  some  years  and 
that  brought  him  into  friendly  relations  with  a  large 
number  of  representative  New  Yorkers.  Later,  he  es 
tablished  his  school,  occupying  for  this  three  floors  in 
the  building  on  the  south-east  corner  of  Broadway  and 
Twentieth  Street.  The  .school  was,  for  a  time,  one  of  the 
successful  and  noteworthy  institutions  of  the  city.  The  list 
of  pupils  included  representatives  (sometimes  of  successive 
generations)  of  a  number  of  the  well-known  families  such 
as  the  Bells,  the  Spoffords,  the  Van  Werts,  the  Roosevelts, 
the  Cuttings,  and  others.  I  entered  the  school  late  in  the 
autumn  term  of  1857.  My  father  was  at  that  time  count 
ing  dollars  closely  and  he  probably  could  not  have  afforded 
any  payment  for  my  school  fees.  An  arrangement  was 
made  which,  considering  the  circumstances,  was  certainly 
liberal  on  the  part  of  MacMullen.  For  the  first  term,  I 
was  to  have  my  schooling  in  exchange  for  some  service  as 
an  assistant  or  tutor.  After  the  first  term,  in  case  my 
work  had  proved  satisfactory,  I  was  to  receive  in  addition 
a  salary  of  $200  a  year.  At  the  time  my  school  work  began 
I  was  thirteen  years  old  and  in  my  fourteenth  year  I 
received  my  first  earnings.  My  first  teaching  was,  I  think, 
in  the  primary  department.  The  school  occupied  three 
floors,  of  which  the  top  was  retained  for  a  play-room,  a 
liberal  arrangement  considering  the  costliness  of  Broadway 


1858]  MacMullen's  School  71 

rents ;  the  next  below  was  devoted  to  the  senior  and  junior 
departments,  and  the  third,  under  the  charge  of  Miss 
Riley  (who  afterwards  became  Mrs.  MacMullen),  served 
for  the  work  of  the  primary  department.  After  a  few 
months'  teaching  of  the  youngsters,  I  was  sent  upstairs 
to  take  care  of  certain  classes  containing  boys  of  my  own 
age.  I  remember  among  these  "pupils"  Isaac  Bell  (son 
of  the  well-known  merchant  of  the  same  name),  who  was 
afterwards  Minister  in  Brussels ;  Gardiner  Spofford,  whose 
father  was  the  managing  partner  of  the  old  shipping  firm 
of  Spofford  &  Tileston ;  George  W.  Folsom,  whose  father 
was  a  leading  lawyer  and  an  owner  of  old-time  family 
estates  near  Stuyvesant  Square;  Nicholas  Fish,  the  son  of 
Hamilton  Fish,  who  was  afterwards  Minister  to  Berne; 
Alfred  WagstafI,  of  the  Long  Island  family,  who  became 
a  lawyer  and  is  at  this  time  a  clerk  of  the  General  Term 
in  New  York.  He  served  with  distinction  during  the 
Civil  War,  returning  as  Major. 

I  doubt  whether  I  taught  these  youngsters  very  much. 
In  Greek  and  Latin,  I  managed  to  keep  myself  a  few 
lessons  ahead  of  them.  It  is  fair  to  say  that  they  had 
other  work  in  both  languages  with  MacMullen  himself. 
The  teaching  was  in  any  case  a  decided  service  to  the 
teacher,  and  there  was  also  service  in  the  experience  and 
training  for  responsibilities.  I  remember  the  special 
satisfaction  that  I  had  in  MacMullen's  word  that  my  con 
trol  of  the  boys  in  the  class-room  was  very  satisfactory. 
He  thought  that  it  was  by  no  means  easy  to  take  part  in 
the  football  upstairs  as  a  comrade  and  an  hour  later  to 
maintain  discipline  in  the  class.  MacMullen  himself  was 
one  of  the  most  devoted  teachers.  I  have  never  known 
a  man  who  gave  of  himself  so  freely  in  time,  money,  and 
sympathy  to  his  pupils.  This  was,  of  course,  an  important 
factor  in  bringing  into  the  school  a  good  class  of  boys  whose 
fathers  could  appreciate  the  intelligent  service  they  were 


72  MacMullen's  School  [1857- 

securing.  His  unselfishness  or  altruism  had,  of  course, 
the  usual  necessary  disadvantages.  At  the  time  he  was 
securing  from  the  school  very  considerable  annual  receipts, 
it  was  his  habit,  in  place  of  capitalising  these  receipts,  to 
expend  a  large  proportion,  in  one  way  or  another,  on 
extra  instructors  or  matters  connected  with  the  boys' 
amusements.  Other  schools  began  to  crowd  upon  him  in 
competition,  the  rent  was  raised,  the  net  income  was 
reduced,  and  when  it  finally  became  necessary  to  seek  other 
quarters,  the  earlier  generation  of  pupils  were  not  promptly 
replaced  with  a  sufficient  number  of  successors.  The 
school  declined  in  force  and  in  repute  until,  during  the 
later  years  of  MacMullen's  life,  it  had  been  transferred  to 
Washington  Heights  where  his  home  was,  and  had  dwindled 
down  to  a  small  group  of  primary  boys.  It  was  a  very 
keen  disappointment  to  the  old  teacher  to  feel  that,  while 
his  mind  was  still  vigorous,  he  had  apparently  lost  his  hold 
in  the  teaching  world.  His  chief  difficulty  was  a  lack  of 
business  common-sense.  If  he  could  in  those  earlier  years 
have  had  a  practically  minded  partner  to  keep  track  of  the 
business,  the  school  ought  to  have  made  for  itself  a  con 
tinued  success. 

My  own  sojourn  in  it  was  not  only  pleasant,  but,  as  said, 
satisfactory  for  training.  It  seemed  best,  however,  to  my 
father,  after  taking  counsel  with  some  friends  of  college 
standing,  that  I  should,  before  entering  for  the  Columbia 
examinations,  take  some  months'  work  in  the  Columbia 
Grammar  School,  the  graduates  of  which  were  supposed 
to  have  certain  special  advantages  in  entering  the  college. 
The  master  and  chief  owner  of  the  grammar  school 
was  Dr.  Anthon,  a  man  who  for  half  a  century  was 
a  prominent  figure  in  the  scholarly  circles  of  New  York. 
Anthon  also  held  the  post  of  Professor  of  Greek  in  Col 
umbia.  He  was  the  compiler  or  editor  of  a  number  of 
classical  text-books,  the  notes  in  which  gave  fuller  render- 


1859]  Columbia  Grammar  School  73 

ings  of  the  original  text  than  are  considered  wise  by  the 
later  editors  of  classical  works.  There  was  no  particular 
difficulty  on  the  part  of  the  shrewder  pupils,  either  in  the 
grammar  school  or  later  in  the  college  class,  in  learning 
by  heart  the  renderings  which  old  Anthon  had  framed 
and  in  utilising  these  in  the  recitations.  Nothing  pleased 
Anthon  better  than  to  hear  his  own  interpretations  thus 
presented.  Later,  however,  as  my  own  knowledge  of 
Latin  and  Greek  increased,  I  was  able  to  recognise  that 
Anthon  had  gracefully  skipped  in  his  renderings  not  a  few 
of  the  more  difficult  passages.  My  work  in  the  Columbia 
Grammar  School  covered  the  winter  of  1859  and  I  have 
therefore,  in  referring  to  it  here,  advanced  my  narrative 
somewhat. 

I  found  time  in  between  my  school  duties  for  some  work 
on  the  home  estate.  My  father  was  at  the  time  em 
ploying  no  gardener  or  serving  man  and  the  chores  of 
the  place  fell  largely  upon  myself.  It  is  fair  to  say  that 
Minnie  was  always  ready  to  do  her  share  even  in  the  tasks 
that  are  especially  considered  as  belonging  to  the  boys. 
Bishop  also  took  hold  at  a  fairly  early  age.  Among  my 
tasks  came  a  certain  piece  of  work  that  belonged  perhaps 
rather  to  our  play  account  than  to  household  chores. 
In  the  second  year  of  our  sojourn  in  the  Melrose  house, 
Minnie  and  myself  became  possessed  of  a  couple  of 
ponies.  We  had  for  some  time  been  saving  money 
towards  a  pony  purchase.  I  remember  as  far  back  as 
the  Yonkers  time  a  box  with  a  slit  in  the  top  that  hung 
in  the  hall  by  the  hat-stand  where  it  could  attract  the 
attention  of  guests.  This  box  was  labelled  "For  the 
pony  fund."  Some  dollars,  I  do  not  remember  how 
many,  were  accumulated  through  the  friendly  interest  of 
visitors.  To  this  beginning  was  added  a  little  fund  from 
birthday  deposits  which  had  been  made  by  the  parents 
in  the  Savings  Bank,  and  by  1858  we  had  an  amount 


74  Our  Ponies  11857- 

available  for  the  purchase  of  any  ponies  that  could  be 
bought  cheap. 

I  remember  very  well  the  visit  made  with  my  father  to 
the  horse  market  in  East  25th  Street,  known  as  the  "Bull's 
Head."  As  previously  stated,  my  father's  knowledge 
of  horses  was  of  the  vaguest,  but  as  often  enough  happens 
in  the  case  of  really  modest  men,  he  was  unwilling,  in  this 
branch  of  knowledge  or  investigation,  to  take  counsel  from 
an  expert.  This  time  the  tyro  fell  on  his  feet.  A  couple 
of  really  attractive  Canadian  ponies  were  offered  to  him 
at  a  price  which,  even  with  his  imperfect  knowledge  of  the 
market,  he  understood  to  be  extremely  low.  The  ponies, 
tested  in  the  street  by  one  of  the  stablemen,  showed  what 
the  seller  called  "a  beautiful  action,"  and  the  purchase  was 
promptly  completed.  The  ponies  were  delivered  in  due 
course  at  the  stable  on  the  estate  and  it  was  not  until 
some  days  later  that  we  realised  why  the  Canadian  had 
been  so  urgent  to  make  the  sale.  A  distemper  of  very 
serious  character  developed  in  both  beasts.  The  horse 
doctor  told  us  that  the  chances  were  against  the  ponies' 
ever  being  of  any  service,  and  that  they  would  probably 
have  to  be  shot.  He  prescribed,  however,  a  course  of 
treatment  which  involved  a  daily  washing  out  of  mouth 
and  nostrils,  and  with  the  utmost  faithfulness  this  treat 
ment  was  carried  out  by  Minnie  and  myself.  We  learned 
only  later  that  the  distemper  was  contagious  for  human 
beings  as  well  as  for  horses;  but  we  also  fell  on  our  feet. 
The  ponies  were  saved  and  did  good  service  during  the 
years  of  our  sojourn  at  Melrose. 

The  name  given  to  Minnie's  pony  was  "Guyas  cutus" 
after  the  mythical  animal  in  a  Georgia  circus  show,  who 
had,  according  to  the  story,  eaten  up  his  comrade  the  Paw. 
He  was,  naturally,  called  "Guy"  for  short.  My  own 
beast  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Osawatomie  Brown,  as  a 
record  of  our  interest  in  the  anti-slavery  fight  in  Kansas. 


1859]  School  Days  75 

As  he  was  always  called  "Tony,"  it  is  possible  that  he 
never  himself  realised  how  much  history  he  was  carrying. 
After  getting  my  share  of  the  ponies  cared  for  in  the  morn 
ing  and  doing  some  "redding  up"  about  the  house,  I 
caught  an  eight  o'clock  train  leaving  the  Melrose  station 
for  New  York  and  got  to  the  Grammar  School  in  Fourth 
Avenue  a  few  minutes  before  nine.  I  believe  during  my 
winters'  journeyings  that  I  was  late  at  school  but  twice. 
On  the  first  occasion  our  cow  (I  had  forgotten  to  state 
that  this  constituted  one  of  my  home  cares)  saw  fit  to 
bother  herself  with  the  pangs  of  motherhood  just  at  the 
time  when  I  ought  to  have  been  catching  the  first  train, 
and  as  a  result  I  caught  the  second  and  arrived  an  hour 
late  and  had  to  take  my  place  at  the  foot  of  the  class. 
Dr.  Anthon  would  not  accept  a  new  calf  as  any  excuse  for 
lack  of  promptness  in  his  Greek  class.  The  second  time 
I  had  a  better  excuse,  and  while  I  was  promptly  sent  to 
the  foot  of  the  class  (at  that  time  my  ambition  kept  me 
in  Greek  and  Latin  either  at  the  head  or  number  two)  I 
was  permitted  on  the  verification  of  my  hurriedly  given 
statement  to  retake  my  place  the  day  following. 

Our  Harlem  Road  train,  blocked  in  the  tunnel  through 
the  breaking  down  of  its  engine,  was  run  into  by  the  New 
Haven  Express.  I  remember  the  excitement  that  came 
upon  us  younger  passengers  when  the  brakeman  rushed 
in  after  the  train  had  been  brought  to  a  standstill  for  some 
minutes,  shouting  to  us,  "Jump,  jump  quick."  Jump  we 
did  and  in  my  car,  at  least,  no  one  was  injured.  On 
returning  to  the  car  after  the  shock  of  the  collision  had 
passed,  I  found  the  seats  tossed  about  and  I  did  not 
succeed  in  finding  my  copy  of  Sallust  which  I  had  been 
grinding  at  diligently  up  to  the  time  of  the  entrance  into 
the  tunnel. 

I  got  home,  as  a  rule,  to  a  light  mid-day  meal  at  a  little 
before  three.  On  the  Saturdays  in  the  winter,  there  was, 


76  Kingman  Nott  [1857- 

of  course,  time  for  skating  and  coasting.  In  the  summer 
and  autumn  months,  Bishop  and  myself  took  part  in  a 
baseball  club  of  the  Melrose  juniors.  The  work  on  the 
garden  previously  referred  to  did  not,  however,  leave 
me  very  much  time  for  amusements.  I  had,  I  think, 
about  an  acre  of  ground  to  care  for.  To  the  proceeds  of 
this  garden  my  father  was  liberal  enough  to  add  the  con 
trol  of  the  fruit  of  certain  peach  trees,  which  naturally 
did  not  call  for  much  individual  care  on  my  part.  With 
the  best  attention,  it  was,  of  course,  not  possible  for  me  to 
do  all  the  work  required  for  the  cultivation  of  an  acre,  and 
I  made  a  business  arrangement  with  a  stalwart  Irish  neigh 
bour  who  put  in  his  spare  hours  on  my  potatoes.  My 
brother  Bishop  was  hired  (for  a  sum  which,  in  later  years, 
he  declares  to  have  been  very  much  below  his  market 
value)  for  such  weeding  as  was  within  the  powers  of  a 
small  boy.  During  the  two  years  of  my  labour,  I  cleared 
from  this  contract  the  sum  of  $300.  This  sum  was  later 
utilised  as  working  capital  for  my  first  student  terms  in 
Gottingen. 

The  chateau,  while  a  biggish  building  to  look  at,  con 
tained  barely  enough  rooms  for  the  requirements  of  the 
increasing  home  circle.  Bishop  and  myself  slept  in  a 
basement  bedroom  which  had  no  cellar  beneath  it.  The 
results  for  his  health  were  bad,  but  at  that  time,  at  least, 
I  seemed  to  be  malaria  proof.  I  got  a  different  impression 
of  my  liability  in  later  years  when  I  was  experimenting  in 
a  Louisiana  swamp.  By  some  method  of  doubling  up  with 
the  children,  we  did  manage  in  time  of  need  to  have  a 
spare-room.  My  father's  hospitable  tendencies  had  by 
no  means  diminished  and  the  spare-room  was  occupied 
pretty  steadily  by  friends  from  the  city.  The  most 
regular  visitor  was  Kingman  Nott,  the  pastor  of  the  First 
Baptist  Church  of  Broome  Street.  In  the  Memoir  of  my 
father  I  have  given  in  a  sketch  of  Nott  some  record  of  the 


Kingman  Nott  77 

impression  that  he  had  left  on  my  memory.  During 
the  troublous  times  of  1857,  occurred  what  was  known  as 
the  Great  Revival.  The  influence  of  this  revival  was  felt 
very  generally  over  the  country,  but  it  is  my  impression 
that  it  impressed  itself  particularly  on  New  York.  How 
far  the  awakening  of  religious  interest  was  due  to  the  large 
amount  of  trouble,  disaster,  and  discouragement  that  had 
come  upon  the  business  community,  or  how  far  religious 
interest  was  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  so  many  thou 
sands  of  men  had  lost  their  hopefulness  in  the  management 
of  their  worldly  affairs,  it  would  be  of  course  impossible 
to  determine.  It  was  certainly  the  case  that  the  consola 
tions  of  a  newly  instituted  or  a  newly  revived  religious 
faith  were  most  important  during  those  dark  months  of 
the  autumn  of  1857  for  many  men  and  for  many  women 
upon  whom  trouble  and  disasters  had  come.' 

My  father  had  from  his  earliest  youth  found  himself 
among  religious  circles.  His  mother  was  an  earnest 
Baptist  and  my  father  as  a  boy  had  taken  his  part  in  the 
regular  Sunday  services  and  home  worship.  He  had 
never,  however,  been  able  to  accept  for  himself  the  Cal- 
vinistic  doctrine.  When  he  was  first  absent  from  his 
mother's  home,  he  had  been  thrown  in  with  Unitarians 
among  whom  he  found  many  of  his  own  near  friends.  It 
was  a  Unitarian  divine,  Dr.  Dewey,  by  whom  his  marriage 
service  was  performed.  During  the  sojourn  in  London 
and  later,  on  Staten  Island  and  in  Yonkers,  he  had  accom 
panied  my  mother  to  the  Episcopal  Church,  to  which  she 
had  found  herself  drawn  and  in  which  for  a  number  of 
years  she  had  accepted  membership. 

During  this  revival  of  1857,  my  father  had  been  drawn 
into  personal  companionship  with  the  young  preacherKing- 
man  Nott,  whose  influence  over  him  became  very  strong. 
Nott  himself  appeared  to  have  little  interest  in  the  Cal- 
vinistic  doctrine,  but  devoted  his  own  work  as  a  preacher 


78  Kingman  Nott  [1857- 

and  as  religious  adviser  to  emphasising  what  may  be 
called  the  universal  truths  of  Christianity.  These  my 
father  was  fully  able  to  accept.  It  seemed  to  him  of  com 
paratively  little  importance  with  what  body  of  Christians 
he  might  be  associated,  as  long  as  he  knew  that  some  good 
work  was  being  done  to  the  community  by  the  organisa 
tion  in  which  he  belonged,  work  in  which  he  could  take  his 
share.  Under  Nott's  influence  and  very  much  to  the 
delight  of  his  mother,  he  accepted  membership  in  the 
First  Baptist  Church.  My  mother,  not  willing  to  be 
separated  from  her  husband  and  caring  herself  very  little 
about  doctrine  one  way  or  the  other,  gave  up  her  pre 
ference  for  the  Episcopal  Church  and  herself  became  a 
member  of  the  same  church.  The  influence  of  their 
example  together  with  the  personal  magnetism  of  the 
young  preacher,  who,  as  *  said,  had  become  very  much  an 
inmate  of  our  home  circle,  proved  to  be  sufficient  to  bring 
me  also  into  the  Baptist  communion,  and  what  was,  under 
the  circumstances,  much  more  surprising,  stirred  in  the 
same  direction  my  active-minded  sister  Minnie.  This 
connection  with  the  First  Baptist  Church  was  for  us 
children  brought  about  before  the  close  of  1857. 

On  the  Sundays  when  the  weather  permitted  and  the 
trains  ran,  we  journeyed  from  High  Bridge  to  Broome 
Street  for  the  church  service.  When  this  service  for  one 
reason  or  another  might  not  be  practicable,  the  family 
attended  service  in  a  small  hall  in  the  village  of  Mor- 
risania  which  had  been  taken  possession  of  by  a  group  of 
Baptists  not  yet  strong  enough  to  build  a  church.  Under 
Nott's  general  direction  or  suggestion,  Minnie  and  myself 
carried  on  some  courses  of  religious  or  theological  reading, 
but  I  doubt  whether  we  ever  became  what  might  be  called 
"good  Calvinists. "  My  father's  orthodoxy  as  a  Calvinist 
was  brought  into  question  not  very  much  later,  but  during 
the  lifetime  of  his  pastor  he  was  permitted  to  remain  a 


1859]  A  Glimpse  of  Lincoln  79 

member  in  good  standing  of  the  very  orthodox  First  Bap 
tist  Church. 

In  the  summer  of  1860  young  Nott  was  drowned.  It 
seems  to  me  probable  now  in  looking  back  over  his  career, 
that  his  early  death  was  for  him  a  blessing.  He  had  made 
a  great  success  as  a  preacher  and  during  his  comparatively 
short  sojourn  in  the  metropolis,  to  which  he  had  come 
from  a  small  village  in  Maine,  he  had  won  for  himself  an 
influence  that  was  most  noteworthy.  He  had  been  a  con 
spicuous  figure  during  the  months  of  the  revival  and  his 
own  preaching  in  the  Academy  of  Music  and  elsewhere 
had  gained  attention  from  great  masses  of  hearers  from 
all  classes  of  the  community.  It  was  the  case,  however, 
that  the  hard-headed  deacons  of  the  First  Church  did  not 
consider  him  to  be  quite  sound  in  his  theology.  It  is 
very  possible  that  he  would  have  come  into  trouble  a 
little  later  on  points  of  doctrine,  and  it  is  probably  well 
that  he  was  spared  this  trouble.  He  was  for  my  father 
a  valued  and  valuable  friend,  and  I  judge  that  for  the 
young  preacher  himself  the  companionship  and  friend 
ship  of  a  man  like  my  father  must  have  been  of  no  little 
service. 

In  February,  1860,  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  secure 
a  personal  glimpse  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  man  who  was 
to  have  the  responsibility  as  leader  in  the  great  contest 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  Republic.  Lincoln  had  been 
invited  by  certain  of  the  Republican  leaders  in  New  York 
to  deliver  the  first  of  a  series  of  addresses  which  had  been 
planned  to  make  clear  to  the  voters  the  purposes  and  the 
principles  of  the  new  party.  As  a  result  of  the  series  of 
debates  with  Douglas  in  1858,  Lincoln's  name  had  become 
known  to  many  Republicans  in  the  East.  It  was  recog 
nised  that  he  had  shown  clear  understanding  of  the 
principles  on  which  the  new  party  had  been  organised  and 
that  his  counsel  should  prove  of  distinctive  service  in  the 


8o  A  Glimpse  of  Lincoln  [1860 

shaping  of  the  policy  of  the  coming  Presidential  campaign. 
The  Committee  of  Invitation  included,  in  addition  to  a 
group  of  the  Old  Whigs  (of  whom  my  father  was  one), 
representatives  of  Free-Soil  Democrats  such  as  William 
Cullen  Bryant  and  John  King. 

Lincoln's  methods  as  a  political  leader  and  orator  were 
known  to  one  or  two  men  on  the  Committee,  but  his 
name  was  still  unfamiliar  to  an  Eastern  audience.  It  was 
understood  that  the  new  leader  from  the  West  was  going 
to  talk  to  New  York  about  the  fight  against  slavery ;  and 
it  is  probable  that  the  larger  part  of  the  audience  expected 
something  "wild  and  woolly."  The  West  at  that  time 
seemed  very  far  off  from  New  York  and  was  still  but  little 
understood  or  little  realised  by  the  communities  of  the 
East.  New  York  found  it  difficult  to  believe  that  a  man 
from  the  prairies  could  have  anything  to  say  that  would 
count  with  the  cultivated  citizens  of  the  metropolis. 
The  more  optimistic  of  the  hearers  were  hoping  that 
perhaps  a  new  Henry  Clay  had  arisen,  and  these  were 
looking  for  utterances  of  the  ornate  and  grandiloquent 
kind,  such  as  they  had  heard  from  Clay  and  from  other 
statesmen  of  the  South. 

My  father  had  the  opportunity,  as  a  member  of  the  Com 
mittee,  of  smuggling  me  in  upon  the  platform  at  Cooper 
Union,  and -from  the  corner  where  I  sat,  I  had  a  fair  view 
of  the  speaker.  The  meeting  was  presided  over  by  Bryant 
and  the  contrast  between  the  cultivated  Chairman  and  the 
speaker  was  marked.  Bryant,  while  short,  gave  the  im 
pression  at  once  of  dignity  and  of  control.  His  magnifi 
cent  big  head,  with  the  mass  of  flowing  hair,  was  that  of 
a  bard.  Bryant's  fame  as  a  poet  has  possibly  eclipsed  the 
importance  of  his  service  as  an  editorial  teacher  with  the 
highest  standards  of  citizenship  and  as  a  wise  and  patriotic 
leader  of  public  opinion. 

The  first  impression  of  the  man  from  the  West  did 


1860]  A  Glimpse  of  Lincoln  81 

nothing  to  contradict  the  expectation  of  something  weird, 
rough,  and  uncultivated.  The  long,  ungainly  figure  upon 
which  hung  clothes  that,  while  newly  made  for  this  trip, 
were  evidently  the  work  of  an  unskilful  tailor;  the  large 
feet  and  the  clumsy  hands  of  which,  at  the  outset,  at 
least,  the  speaker  seemed  to  be  unduly  conscious;  the 
long  gaunt  head,  capped  by  a  shock  of  hair  that  seemed 
not  to  have  been  thoroughly  brushed  out,  made  a  picture 
which  did  not  fit  in  with  New  York's  conception  of  a 
finished  statesman.  The  first  utterance  of  the  voice  was 
not  pleasant  to  the  ear,  the  tone  being  harsh  and  the  key 
too  high.  As  the  speech  progressed,  however,  the  speaker 
seemed  to  come  into  control  of  himself,  the  voice  gained 
a  natural  and  impressive  modulation,  the  gestures  were 
dignified  and  natural,  and  the  hearers  found  themselves 
under  the  influence  of  the  earnest  look  from  the  deeply 
set  eyes  and  of  the  absolute  integrity  of  purpose  and  of 
devotion  to  principle  which  impressed  the  thought  and  the 
words  of  the  speaker.  In  place  of  a  "wild  and  woolly" 
talk,  illumined  by  more  or  less  incongruous  anecdotes, 
in  place  of  a  high-strung  exhortation  of  general  principles 
or  of  a  fierce  protest  against  Southern  arrogance,  the 
New  Yorkers  had  presented  to  them  a  calm  but  forcible 
series  of  well-reasoned  considerations  upon  which  was  to 
be  based  their  action  as  citizens. 

It  was  evident  that  the  man  from  the  West  understood 
thoroughly  the  constitutional  history  of  the  country;  he 
had  mastered  the  issues  that  had  grown  up  about  the 
slavery  question;  he  realised,  and  was  prepared  to  respect, 
the  rights  of  his  political  opponents.  He  realised  equally 
the  rights  of  the  men  whose  views  he  was  helping  to  shape, 
and  he  insisted  that  there  should  be  no  wavering  or  weak 
ening  in  regard  to  the  enforcement  of  those  rights;  he 
made  it  clear  that  the  continued  existence  of  the  nation 
depended  upon  the  equitable  adjustment  of  these  issues, 


82  A  Glimpse  of  Lincoln  [1860 

and  he  held  that  such  adjustment  meant  the  restriction 
of  slavery  within  its  present  boundaries.  He  maintained 
that  such  restriction  was  just  and  necessary,  as  well  on 
the  ground  of  fairness  to  the  blacks  as  for  the  final  wel 
fare  of  the  whites.  He  insisted  that  the  voters  in  the 
present  States  of  the  Union  had  upon  them  the  largest 
possible  measure  of  responsibility  in  so  controlling  the 
great  domain  of  the  Republic  that  the  States  of  the  future, 
the  States  in  which  their  children  and  their  grandchildren 
were  to  grow  up  as  citizens,  should  be  preserved  in  full 
liberty,  and  be  protected  against  the  invasion  and  the 
control  of  the  institution  that  represented  barbarity. 
Such  a  contention  could  interfere  in  no  way  with  the 
recognition  that  was  due  under  the  obligations,  entered 
into  by  the  grandfathers  and  confirmed  by  the  fathers, 
to  the  property  rights  of  the  present  owners  of 
slaves. 

With  the  New  Englanders  of  the  anti-slavery  group, 
the  speaker  emphasised  that  the  restriction  of  slavery 
meant  its  early  extermination;  and  with  this  belief  he 
insisted  that  war  for  the  purpose  of  exterminating  slavery 
from  existing  slave  territory  could  not  be  justified.  He 
was  prepared,  however,  for  the  purpose  of  protecting 
against  slavery  the  national  territory  that  was  still  free, 
to  take  the  .risk  of  the  war  which  was  threatened  from  the 
South,  because  he  believed  that  only  through  such  action 
could  the  existence  of  the  nation  be  maintained.  He 
believed  further  that  the  maintenance  of  the  great  Re 
public  was  essential  not  only  for  the  welfare  of  its  own 
citizens,  but  for  the  interests  and  the  development  of 
free  government  throughout  the  world.  He  spoke  with 
full  sympathy  of  the  difficulties  and  problems  resting 
upon  the  men  of  the  South,  and  he  insisted  that  the 
matters  at  issue  could  be  adjusted  only  with  a  fair  recog 
nition  of  these  difficulties.  Aggression  must  be  withstood 


A  Glimpse  of  Lincoln  83 

from  whichever  side  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  Line  it  might 
be  threatened. 

I  was  but  a  boy  when  I  first  looked  upon  the  gaunt 
figure  of  the  man  who  was  to  be  accepted  as  the  people's 
leader  in  the  great  struggle,  and  listened  to  the  calm  but 
forcible  arguments  in  behalf  of  the  principles  of  the  Repub 
lican  party.  It  is  not  likely  that  I  took  in  at  the  time 
with  any  adequate  appreciation  the  weight  of  the  speaker's 
reasoning.  I  have  read  the  address  since  more  than  once, 
and  it  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  separate  my  first  im 
pressions  from  my  later  knowledge.  I  do  remember  that 
I  was  at  once  impressed  with  the  feeling  that  here  was  a 
political  leader  whose  methods  differed  from  those  of  any 
politician  to  whom  I  had  listened.  His  contentions  were 
based  not  upon  invective  or  abuse  of  the  other  fellow,  but 
purely  on  considerations  of  justice,  on  that  everlasting 
principle  that  what  is  just,  and  only  what  is  just,  repre 
sents  the  largest  and  the  highest  interests  of  the  whole 
nation.  As  I  learned  from  the  later  history,  this  Cooper 
Union  speech  gave  the  keynote  for  the  coming  campaign, 
and  it  also  decided  the  selection  of  the  national  leader 
not  only  for  the  Presidential  campaign,  but  through  the 
coming  struggle.  It  was  through  the  impression  made 
upon  New  York,  and  later  upon  the  States  of  the  East, 
by  Lincoln's  speech  and  by  the  personality  of  the  man  that 
the  votes  of  New  York  and  of  New  England  were  secured 
for  the  nomination  in  Chicago  of  the  man  from  Illinois. 

Robert  Lincoln  (writing  to  me  in  July,  1908)  says: 

After  my  father's  address  in  New  York  in  February,  1860, 
he  made  a  trip  to  New  England  in  order  to  visit  me  at  Exeter, 
N.  H.,  where  I  was  then  a  student  in  the  Phillips  Academy.  It 
had  not  been  his  plan  to  do  any  speaking  in  New  England,  but 
as  a  result  of  the  address  in  New  York,  he  received  requests 
from  New  England  friends  for  speeches,  and  I  find  that  before 
returning  to  the  West  he  spoke  at  the  following  places :  Provi- 


84  A  Glimpse  of  Lincoln  [1860 

dence,  R.  I.,  Manchester,  Exeter,  Dover,  and  Concord,  N.  H., 
Hartford,  Meriden,  New  Haven,  Norwalk,  and  Bridgeport, 
Conn.,  and  Woonsocket,  R.  I.  Through  Boston  he  passed  as 
an  unknown  traveller. 

An  edition  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  address  was  brought  into 
print  in  September,  1860,  by  the  Young  Men's  Republican 
Union  of  New  York,  with  notes  by  Cephas  Brainerd  and 
Charles  C.  Nott  (later  Colonel  of  my  own  regiment,  the 
1 76th  New  York,  and  after  the  war  Chief  Justice  of  the 
Court  of  Claims  in  Washington).  The  publication  of 
this  pamphlet  shows  that  as  early  as  September,  1860,  the 
historic  importance  and  permanent  value  of  the  speech 
were  fairly  realised  by  the  national  leaders  of  the  day.  In 
1909,  I  brought  the  speech  into  print  again  as  an  appendix 
to  my  biographical  study  of  Lincoln,  and  my  good  friend 
Colonel  (or  Justice)  Nott  was  sufficiently  interested  to 
prepare  a  new  introduction  for  the  text.  Justice  Nott 
took  the  view,  which  I  think  is  now  generally  accepted, 
that  the  speech  is,  on  the  ground  not  only  of  its  contents 
but  of  its  final  influence  on  the  history  of  the  country,  to  be 
ranked  in  the  first  group  (and  possibly  first  in  the  group) 
of  the  political  addresses  of  the  United  States. 

In  1858,  the  construction  of  Central  Park  had  been 
begun  under  the  direction  of  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  and 
of  Calvert-Vaux.  Olmsted  was  a  Massachusetts  man  who 
had  recently  taken  up  the  profession  of  landscape  garden 
ing.  He  was  a  man  of  distinctive  force  and  originality, 
and  he  had  already  given  evidence  of  executive  ability 
and  of  cleverness  in  observation  in  several  directions.  He 
had  published  through  my  father  a  year  or  two  earlier, 
under  the  title  of  Walks  and  Talks  of  an  American  Farmer 
in  England,  an  account  of  a  tramp  that  he  had  taken  with 
a  friend  through  a  large  portion  of  Great  Britain.  He  had 
made  a  study  of  agricultural  and  of  social  conditions,  and 
some  of  the  more  intelligent  reviewers  compared  the  book, 


1858]  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  85 

as  well  for  its  information  as  for  the  cleverness  of  pre 
sentation,  to  the  writings  of  Cobbett.  In  1857-58, 
Olmsted  found  time  for  a  horseback  journey  through  the 
South.  Starting  at  the  Great  Dismal  Swamp,  he  rode 
along  the  coast,  making  detours  into  the  Back  Country, 
and  he  extended  his  trip  as  far  as  Texas.  The  results  of 
his  observations  were  presented  in  three  books,  A  Journey 
through  the  Seaboard  Slave  States,  A  Journey  in  the  Back 
Country,  and  A  Journey  through  Texas.  Olmsted  in 
terested  himself  in  studying  in  each  community  through 
which  he  passed  the  conditions,  rural,  social,  and  com 
mercial.  He  was  trying  to  find  out  upon  what  depended 
the  prosperity  of  these  slave-holding  communities  and 
whether  the  prospects  of  prosperity  were  on  an  upward 
or  a  downward  wave.  The  most  important  of  the  con 
clusions  arrived  at  after  a  study  extending  over  a  number 
of  months,  was  as  to  the  unprofitableness  of  slave  labour. 
It  seemed  clear  to  Olmsted  that  even  on  the  plantations 
where  the  raising  of  cotton  or  of  rice  was  going  on  with 
full  measure  of  activity,  and  when  there  was  an  assured 
market  for  the  things  produced,  the  planter  was  not 
making  any  net  income,  and  that  in  his  financial  status  he 
was  steadily  slipping  backward. 

Olmsted  had,  as  a  typical  New  Englander,  always  be 
lieved  that  slavery  was  on  moral  grounds  an  abomina 
tion,  but  in  these  narratives  he  gives  little  attention  to  the 
moral  side  of  the  question.  There  is  not  a  word  of  invec 
tive  or  abuse  against  the  slave-holders.  He  finds  himself 
in  fact  very  sympathetic  with  their  problems  and  their 
difficulties.  It  was  his  belief,  however,  that  in  the  near 
future,  the  financial  foundations  of  the  plantation  system 
were  going  to  break  down.  He  pointed  out  that  a  number 
of  the  planters  were  spending  money,  and  spending  it 
very  freely,  which  had  been  borrowed  from  their  factors, 
chiefly  in  New  York  and  in  Philadelphia,  on  the  crop  that 


86  Olmsted  and  Vaux  [1858- 

was  still  to  be  harvested  and  sold.  In  some  cases,  these 
loans  covered  crops  two  or  more  years  ahead.  He  recalls 
that  in  the  history  of  the  world,  economic  difficulties  had 
frequently  resulted  in  political  disturbance  and  even  in 
revolution.  The  books  have  been  compared  to  the  studies 
made  by  the  English  traveller  Alfred  Young  in  France  in 
the  years  immediately  preceding  the  revolution  of  1789. 

The  analysis  made  by  Olmsted  of  the  unsound  condition 
of  the  business  of  producers  in  the  South  was  supplemented 
a  year  or  more  later  by  a  book  written  by  a  North  Carolin 
ian,  Helper,  in  which,  with  rather  sharper  emphasis,  he 
presented  similar  conclusions.  Helper's  book  made  his 
fellow-citizens  so  indignant  that  he  was  driven  out  of  the 
State.  Both  authors  were,  however,  fairly  justified  in 
their  predictions  by  the  events  of  1861-65.  It  is  proper 
to  recall  in  this  connection  that  one  of  the  first  acts  passed 
by  the  Confederate  Congress  in  Montgomery,  Alabama, 
was  one  confiscating  into  the  Confederate  treasury  all 
debts  due  to  "  alien  enemies, "  that  is  to  say  to  the  factors 
and  merchants  of  the  North.  The  financial  history  of  the 
Confederacy  shows  that  not  very  much  money  was  col 
lected  in  this  fashion,  but  the  Southern  planters  had  at 
least  the  advantage  of  sponging  off  the  slate  a  great 
mass  of  obligations.  It  may  also  be  borne  in  mind  that 
however  good  the  will  might  have  been  on  the  part  of 
such  of  these  planters  as  survived  at  the  close  of  the  war, 
there  were  at  that  time,  with  the  annihilation  of  property 
in  slaves  and  with  the  destruction  of  the  plantations,  no 
resources  left  with  which  to  meet  any  outside  indebtedness. 
The  millions  of  dollars  due  to  the  North  from  the  South 
at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  while,  of  course,  not  to  be 
described  as  the  cause  of  the  war,  had  undoubtedly  con 
stituted  a  sharp  additional  motive  on  the  part  of  many 
leading  Southerners  for  hastening  secession. 

This,  however,  is  a  diversion  into  later  history.     Calvert 


Central  Park  87 

Vaux,  who  had  co-operated  with  Olmsted  in  the  design 
that  was  after  competition  selected  for  Central  Park,  was 
an  English  architect  who  had  come  to  the  country  a  few 
years  before  in  the  company  of  Mr.  Downing.  It  was 
Mr.  Vaux  who  was  responsible  for  the  construction  of  the 
larger  part  of  the  bridges  and  other  architectural  work  in 
the  Park.  It  is  probable  that  the  credit  for  the  ingenious 
idea  of  the  transverse  roads  should  be  shared  between  him 
and  'Olmsted. 

I  utilised  the  vacation  months  of  the  summer  of  1859 
for  work  on  the  Central  Park.  My  cousin,  Mr.  Olmsted, 
placed  me  on  the  staff  of  an  Austrian  landscape  gardener, 
Pilat,  who  had  at  that  time  the  responsibility  for  the 
shaping  of  the  Ramble,  and  my  summer's  work  was  done 
under  Pilat 's  directions. 

It  is  not  easy  for  the  New  Yorker  of  later  generation  to 
realise  the  condition  of  the  ground  out  of  which  was 
created  the  portion  of  the  Park  lying  between  Fifty-ninth 
Street  and  Seventy-second  Street.  The  region  was  made 
up  of  rocky  hills,  with  the  slightest  possible  covering  of 
earth  at  their  base.  These  hills  were  largely  occupied  by 
the  shanties  of  Irish  squatters  and  by  their  goats  and  pigs. 
Nearly  all  the  earth  needed  for  the  growth  of  the  trees  and 
shrubs  south  of  Seventy-second  Street  had  to  be  brought 
in  from  outside.  The  pond  which  begins  at  the  angle  of 
Fifty-ninth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue  is  an  artificial  creation. 
I  remember  taking  a  good  deal  of  pride  in  the  success  of 
the  curves  of  one  of  the  paths  in  the  ramble,  for  the  shaping 
of  which  I  was  responsible,  but  I  have  never  been  able 
since  to  identify  that  path  with  any  degree  of  certainty. 
I  received  the  daily  wage  of  $1.10;  the  dollar  being  for  my 
work  and  the  ten  cents  for  the  payment  of  my  fare  back 
to  town.  I  was  expected  to  find  my  own  fare  for  the 
morning  journey.  At  the  close  of  the  day's  work,  the 
labourers  could,  if  they  chose  to  pay  ten  cents,  go  back  to 


88  Columbia  College  [1860 

town  by  some  old  mule-driven  stages  which  had  been 
secured  for  the  purpose,  and  which  made  the  trip  from 
the  gateway  of  the  old  Arsenal  building.  It  was  in  this 
building  also  that  we  received  our  weekly  wage. 

In  the  winter  of  1860,  my  school  work  was  brought  to  a 
close  by  a  rather  serious  illness.  It  is  probable  that  I  had 
pushed  work  as  a  student  a  little  too  hard  in  connection 
with  the  necessary  fatigue  of  the  journey  in  and  out  to  the 
city.  I  still  held  my  places  in  class,  first  and  second  in 
Greek  and  Latin  (alternating  with  a  stubborn  friend)  and 
second  in  mathematics,  and  Anthon  looked  upon  me  as 
a  promising  student  for  his  Columbia  class.  The  time 
lost  through  the  illness  was  made  up  in  a  measure  by  some 
coaching  given  by  a  young  student  named  Suydam  who 
came  to  Melrose  for  the  purpose  and  who  gave  me  the  last 
supervision  required  before  the  Columbia  examinations 
in  June.  These  I  passed  successfully  and  was  duly  re 
corded  as  a  member  of  the  class  of  1864.  As  usual,  the 
Columbia  Grammar  School  boys  came  well  to  the  front  in 
the  matriculation  examinations.  It  was  the  very  natural 
criticism  on  the  part  of  the  other  boys  and  of  the  instruc 
tors  that  Professor  Anthon-,  who  held  the  chair  of  Greek  in 
Columbia,  looked  after  his  own  youngsters.  I  divided 
the  honours  of  the  examination  with  my  friend  Lawrence 
who  had  contended  with  me  steadily  in  the  Columbia 
schoolroom,  and  with  an  outsider  named  Demarest. 
I  believe  later  that  Demarest  got  the  better  of  Lawrence, 
so  that  the  headship  of  even  Anthon's  Greek  class  did  not 
rest  with  the  Columbia  Grammar  School. 

After  the  successful  completion  of  these  June  examina 
tions,  I  was  taken  by  my  father  to  his  old-time  friend 
Dr.  Agnew  the  oculist,  to  be  overhauled  as  to  my  eyes. 
Agnew's  report  was  decidedly  pessimistic.  He  said  that 
it  was  perhaps  well  that  the  examinations  had  been  com 
pleted,  as  if  I  had  come  to  him  a  few  weeks  earlier,  he 


1860]  Cabot  Russell  89 

would  not  have  permitted  them  to  be  taken.  He  said 
that  there  was  no  good  in  my  planning  for  college  work 
in  the  autumn  and  that  the  proper  thing  to  do  was  to  send 
me  off  on  a  voyage.  Dr.  Agnew's  decision  was  given  in 
June,  1860,  just  after  the  college  examinations.  My 
father  had  still  some  hope  that  the  blocking  of  the  college 
work  need  not  be  as  final  as  the  oculist  anticipated.  He 
arranged  that  I  should  spend  the  summer  months  on  a 
tramp  through  the  White  Mountains  with  the  hope  that 
by  October,  with  the  strengthening  of  the  general  health, 
the  eyes  might  again  possibly  be  fit  for  use.  I  was  for 
tunate  in  securing  as  a  companion  for  this  summer  tramp 
my  old-time  friend  and  schoolfellow,  Cabot  Jackson 
Russell.  In  the  MacMullen  school  we  had  competed  with 
each  other  in  class  work,  in  the  school  debating  society,  and 
at  football.  Latin  and  Greek  were  for  Cabot  stumbling 
blocks.  His  mind  was  in  certain  directions  quick  enough, 
but  he  could  not  concentrate  on  study.  In  oratory  he 
held  his  own  and  in  football  and  anything  else  that  in 
cluded  contest  he  was  always  a  leader.  His  boy  com 
panions  recognised  in  him  the  personal  courage  of  which 
fuller  evidence  was  given  before  his  death.  His  charm  of 
manner,  lively  spirits,  and  good-fellowship  secured  for  him 
a  wide  circle  of  loving  companions  and  friends.  His 
sister,  who  had  much  more  of  a  headpiece,  was  a  school 
friend  of  my  sister  Minnie.  The  father  was  a  New 
York  lawyer  who  had  been  active  in  anti-slavery  work. 
He  was  a  capable  and  cultivated  man  and  his  interests 
were  those  of  a  scholar.  Possibly  on  the  ground  of  inter 
est  in  anti-slavery  work  and  in  other  reforms,  he  did  not 
make  a  great  success  at  the  Bar. 

One  of  Cabot's  difficulties  was  that  of  keeping  his  fi 
nances  straight.  Money  disappeared  through  his  hands  or 
from  his  pockets  before  he  knew  that  he  had  any,  and 
while  his  tastes  were  sufficiently  refined,  and  his  pennies 


90  Cabot  Russell  [1860 

were  certainly  never  used  for  unworthy  purposes,  it  was 
usually  impossible  for  him  to  make  clear  to  his  father  or 
to  his  older  sister  what  had  been  done  with  his  funds.  I 
remember  that  on  this  particular  trip,  the  sister  gave  me 
his  travelling  money  with  strict  injunctions  that  I  was 
to  let  him  have  no  cash  other  than  the  necessary  ex 
penses  of  the  trip  from  day  to  day.  I  managed,  although 
with  some  difficulty,  to  follow  these  instructions,  and  it  is 
only  fair  to  Cabot  to  say  that  in  spite  of  the  necessary 
annoyance  of  being  obliged  to  come  to  his  chum  as  an 
applicant  for  his  own,  he  never  lost  temper  with  me  in 
connection  with  certain  refusals  on  my  part  which  I  be 
lieved  to  be  necessary.  When,  at  the  end  of  the  trip,  I 
turned  him  over  to  his  aunt  Ellen  Jackson  who  was  waiting 
for  us  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Kearsarge,  I  was  able  to  place 
in  her  hands  a  substantial  balance  from  the  amount  allotted 
for  expenses.  "Well,  Haven,"  said  Miss  Jackson,  "this  is 
the  first  time  in  my  memory  that  Cabot  ever  arrived  at  the 
end  of  a  trip  with  money  in  hand." 

We  went  by  train  to  Springfield,  Massachusetts,  and 
walked  from  there  to  Brattleboro  and  from  Brattleboro  to 
a  village  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Kearsarge.  There,  Cabot's 
part  of  the  trip  ended  but  he  accompanied  me  a  stage  farther 
to  North  Conway,  from  which  point  I  journeyed  by  stage 
and  rail  to  Portland,  coming  home  in  the  Portland  boat. 
It  was  for  both  of  us  boys  a  great  spree.  At  different  points 
along  the  road  we  came  into  touch  with  friends  or  connec 
tions  to  whom  we  had  letters.  I  remember  particularly  a 
big  group  of  Tyler  cousins  in  Brattleboro.  We  had  fishing 
tackle  with  us  and  in  the  early  sixties  many  of  the  New 
Hampshire  brooks  which  have  since  been  pretty  thoroughly 
exhausted  still  gave  good  sport.  I  never  saw  Cabot  again 
after  leaving  him  at  North  Conway.  My  course  led  me  to 
Germany,  while  his  lay  in  the  direction  of  Harvard.  He 
managed,  although  with  rather  a  serious  burden  of  con- 


1860]  The  54th  Mass.  Regt.  91 

ditions,  to  pass  the  admission  examinations  in  October. 
He  was  in  trouble  with  his  class  by  the  close  of  the  first 
year  and  it  is  my  impression  that  during  the  second  year 
he  was  sent  home  with  the  word  that  he  had  better  take 
some  more  tutoring  outside  of  the  college.  Fortunately 
for  him,  other  interests  came  in  which  left  college  matters 
in  the  background.  He  enlisted,  as  soon  as  he  had  reached 
the  required  age  of  eighteen,  in  one  of  the  Boston  regi 
ments  and  did  some  service  in  North  Carolina  as  a  ser 
geant.  A  few  months  later,  when  the  Fifty-fourth 
Coloured  Regiment  was  organised  in  Boston,  he  was 
recalled  by  Boston  friends  to  take  a  captain's  commission 
under  Colonel  Shaw.  He  took  his  full  share  in  the  training 
of  these  Massachusetts  negroes,  training  which,  in  con 
nection  with  the  exceptionally  intelligent  material  that 
came  into  the  two  Massachusetts  regiments,  was  much  less 
difficult  than  that  which  I  had  on  my  hands  a  few  months 
later  in  Louisiana  when  we  were  going  through  the  task 
of  turning  plantation  negroes  into  soldiers.  As  well  on  the 
ground  of  the  intelligence,  the  ardour,  and  the  keen  fighting 
spirit  of  the  rank  and  file,  as  because  of  the  rather  excep 
tionally  high  quality  of  the  picked  officers,  the  54th  and 
55th  Massachusetts,  under  the  leadership  of  Colonel  Shaw 
and  Colonel  Hallo  well,  took  rank  among  the  best  of  the 
regiments  that  went  to  the  front  during  the  year  1863. 
The  record  of  the  54th  is  well  known  in  the  history  of  the 
long  campaign  about  the  coast  of  Charleston.  Young 
Russell  fell  with  his  Colonel  in  the  assault  on  Fort  Wagner, 
an  assault  in  which  five  out  of  six  of  the  officers  were  killed 
or  wounded.  His  name  finds  place  at  the  head  of  the 
roster  of  the  company  commanders  carved  on  the  beauti 
ful  monument  by  St.  Gaudens  erected  in  memory  of  the 
regiment  on  Boston  Common. 

On  arriving  at  Portland  by  the  first  of  September,  I 
found  in  my  home  letters  news  of  the  sudden  death  of 


92  The  54th  Mass.  Regt.  [1860 

Kingman  Nott  and  realised  in  my  father's  reference  to 
Nott  how  close  the  two  men  had  been  to  each  other  and 
how  much  of  a  personal  loss  the  taking  away  of  the  young 
pastor  was  to  my  father.  On  arriving  at  home,  I  had 
some  further  experimenting  with  the  eyes  with  the  result 
of  the  confirmation  of  the  counsel  given  in  June.  I  was 
for  the  present  at  least  to  give  up  all  plans  for  college 
work  and  was  to  take  an  absence  from  home,  beginning 
with  a  sea  voyage. 


VI 
I    Am    Sent    Abroad 

MY  father  found  among  the  vessels  loading  in 
New  York  a  bark  called  the  Louisa  Hatch. 
The  vessel  attracted  his  favourable  attention 
partly  from  her  graceful  lines  and  partly  from  the  fact  that 
she  bore  what  he  might  have  called  a  Maine  imprint,  as 
she  sailed  from  Bath.  The  captain,  himself  a  Maine 
man,  belonged  to  a  type  of  American  seamen  which,  under 
the  pressure,  first  of  Civil  War  conditions,  and  later  of 
pig-headed  mediaeval  laws  revived  and  strengthened 
under  our  protective  policy,  has  so  largely  disappeared. 
He  was,  I  judge,  a  first-class  sailor  and  he  had  also  a  very 
high  standard  of  discipline.  The  crew  was  much  more 
largely  American  than  would  be  the  case  in  these  later 
years  in  which  our  American  vessels,  as  far  as  they  are  still 
to  be  found  at  sea,  are  largely  manned  by  Scandinavians 
and  Britons.  His  first  mate  was  his  brother-in-law,  a 
sad-eyed,  right-purposed  man  who  did  the  best  he  could 
without  having  any  hopefulness  as  to  the  result.  The 
second  mate  was  a  rollicking  fellow  who  was  rather  out 
of  place  in  this  strict  New  England  craft  but  who  was 
very  valuable,  if  only  by  contrast,  in  keeping  up  the  spirits 
of  the  company.  My  father  secured  passage  for  me  in 
the  vessel,  which  was  bound  to  Bristol,  for  the  sum  of 
forty  dollars.  I  was  the  only  passenger,  as  at  that  time 

93 


94  At  Sea  in  Heavy  Weather  [1860 

sailing  vessels  had  practically  been  given  up  for  the 
North  Atlantic  passenger  service.  The  captain  re 
marked  that  my  passage-money  would  become  the 
perquisite  of  his  wife.  We  had  what  might  be  called  a 
successful  trip,  reaching  Bristol  in  the  remarkably  fast 
time  of  eighteen  days.  As  a  fact,  we  were  absolutely 
blown  across  the  ocean  by  south-westerly  gales  which, 
coming  on  the  quarter,  secured  for  the  vessel  her  best 
speed.  She  was  loaded  with  grain  and  in  those  days,  well 
in  advance  of  the  Plimsoll  reforms,  there  was  practically 
no  supervision  as  to  stowing  methods  for  grain  cargoes. 
The  grain  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  practically  loose  in 
the  hold,  or  if  there  were  bin  divisions,  the  bins  were  so 
large  that  the  grain  was  still  left  free  to  shift.  On  the 
third  or  fourth  day  out,  the  seas  being  heavy,  a  leak  devel 
oped  and  the  pumps  were  started.  The  second  mate, 
having  not  much  else  to  amuse  himself  with,  had  indulged 
in  some  teasing  of  the  small  passenger.  He  took  pains 
to  mention  to  me  the  variety  of  mischances  to  which  a 
grain  vessel  was  exposed  in  case  of  a  leak :  the  grain  might 
take  in  a  little  water  and,  becoming  heated  through  the 
damp,  swell  out  and  break  open  the  seams  of  the  hold,  or, 
as  sometimes  happened  with  a  small  incursion  of  damp,  the 
grain  might  heat  and  take  fire;  or,  if  the  weather  was  not 
only  heavy  but  shifty  and  the  vessel  were  suddenly  thrown 
over  on  her  beam,  the  cargo  might  shift  so  that  the  vessel 
could  not  right  herself ;  or  (as  was  nearly  sure  to  happen) 
a  leak  might  develop  under  the  grain,  and  the  pumps 
becoming  choked,  it  would  be  impossible  to  free  the  hold 
from  water.  Here  was  the  leak  sure  enough  and  if  it 
were  really  beneath  the  cargo,  there  would  undoubtedly 
be  no  little  difficulty  in  keeping  the  hold  free  of  water. 
For  some  days,  however,  the  seas  were  so  heavy  that  it  was 
not  possible  to  make  any  thorough  examination  as  to  the 
place  of  the  leak  and  the  crew  had  to  be  satisfied  with 


At  Sea  in  Heavy  Weather  95 

their  success,  in  spelling  each  other  at  the  pumps  during 
the  long  twenty-four  hours,  in  keeping  the  water  in  the 
hold  from  increasing.  I  remember  now  the  feeling  with 
which,  lying  awake  at  night,  I  listened  to  the  steady  stroke 
of  the  pump,  and  when  now  and  then  some  intermission 
came,  would  wonder  whether  the  grain  had  choked  the 
pumps  and  how  long  in  that  case  the  ship  was  going 
to  keep  afloat.  The  pumps  were  not  choked  but  it  was 
some  days  before,  in  connection  with  the  continued  heavy 
seas,  it  proved  practicable  to  locate  the  leak  and  to  make 
sure  that  it  was  not  in  a  place  where  the  complications 
with  the  grain  cargo  were  likely  to  occur.  The  second 
mate,  who  from  his  so-called  worldly  and  frivolous  dis 
position  had  not  found  favour  in  the  eyes  of  our  captain, 
was  the  person  who  first  suggested  that  the  leak  must  be 
abaft  of  the  main  hold  and  might  be  looked  for  by  the  stern 
post,  and  who  volunteered  himself  to  make  the  search. 
He  was  suspended  over  the  stern  of  the  vessel,  supported 
in  an  improvised  canvas  crate.  The  sea  was  still  high  and 
as  the  vessel  was  running  before  it,  the  waves  broke  with 
considerable  force  under  and  occasionally  over  the  poop. 
The  task  of  investigation  required  that  in  between  these 
breaking  waves  an  inspection  should  be  secured  of  the 
stern  post  at  a  point  considerably  beneath  the  sloping 
angle  of  the  stern.  Twice  an  assaulting  wave  dashed  the 
mate  violently  against  and  beneath  the  overhanging  stern, 
knocking  the  breath  out  of  him  so  that  he  was  brought  to 
the  deck  almost  black  in  the  face.  The  third  time,  recover 
ing  his  breath  and  timing  his  descent  more  accurately,  he 
succeeded  in  getting  at  the  particular  point  of  the  stern 
that  he  had  had  in  view.  The  day  following,  when  the 
sea  had  subsided,  the  same  point  was  reached  with  less 
difficulty  and  some  temporary  repairs  were  made  which 
lessened  the  inflow  of  the  water.  The  pumping,  however, 
continued  with  fatiguing  regularity  (fatiguing  no  less  for 


96  Bristol  [1860 

the  single  passenger  who  listened  than  for  the  members 
of  the  crew  who  spelled  each  other)  until  we  reached 
Bristol. 

The  vessel  lay  at  Avonmouth,  a  settlement  which  was 
growing  up  about  the  docks  at  the  mouth  of  the  Avon 
River.  The  river  was  low  and  on  account  of  the  force  of 
the  current  downward  at  certain  hours  of  the  day  and  of 
the  tide  upward  at  others,  and  in  connection  also  with  the 
fact  that  the  course  was  very  twisted,  the  towing  of  a 
vessel  up  to  Bristol  presented,  as  the  captain  explained 
to  me,  serious  risks.  I  had  never  before  seen  a  shore  at 
which  the  difference  in  the  tide  was  so  considerable.  It  is 
my  memory  that  in  the  river  and  in  the  narrower  divisions 
of  the  Bristol  Channel  outside  of  the  river,  the  tide  rose 
to  from  thirty  to  forty  feet.  We  rowed  up  the  Avon  with 
our  own  crew,  the  distance  being  about  eight  miles.  The 
tide  was  low  and  the  sloping  banks  of  mud  rose  from  thirty 
to  forty  feet  above  our  heads  on  either  side.  I  can  recall 
to  mind  the  picture  presented  by  the  schooners  or  channel 
luggers  which  rested  near  the  upper  edge  of  this  steep 
mud-bank  and  which  were  kept  in  an  upright  position  by 
ropes  carried  from  the  masts  to  the  chimneys  of  the  houses 
on  the  upper  edge  of  the  bank.  It  was  fair  to  assume  that 
every  craft  was  fastened  to  the  chimney  of  its  owner. 
Three  years  later,  I  read  with  a  feeling  of  personal 
injury,  that  the  Louisa  Hatch  had  been  burned  by  the 
Alabama.- — I  fear  that  for  once  in  his  life,  the  good 
Puritan  captain  swore. 

On  arriving  at  Bristol,  I  was  presented  by  the  captain 
to  the  Consul.  I  had  no  letters  of  introduction  but  he 
knew  my  father  by  reputation  and  promptly  extended  a 
hospitable  invitation  for  me  to  be  his  guest  during  my 
sojourn  in  the  city.  I  accompanied  the  Consul  to  his 
house  in  one  of  the  more  attractive  suburbs  and  my  box 
was  sent  up  by  train  the  day  following.  The  hospitality 


1860]  Bristol  97 

of  the  Consul's  family  was  so  cordial  that  my  visit  ex 
tended  beyond  the  twenty-four  hours  originally  intended 
to  a  term  of  four  or  five  days.  I  was  the  companion  of 
Mrs.  Consul  (I  have  forgotten  the  family  name)  and  her 
sister  in  drives  taken  in  the  various  directions  about  the 
city,  drives  by  means  of  which  I  secured  a  much  better 
impression  of  the  surrounding  country  than  would  in  any 
other  way  have  been  practicable  within  the  same  time. 
I  finally  broke  away  from  my  hospitable  entertainers  and 
started  to  carry  out  my  original  plan  of  proceeding  to 
London  on  foot.  My  father  had  provided  a  knapsack  for 
the  purpose,  and  my  box  being  forwarded  to  London  to  the 
hotel  that  had  been  selected,  I  put  myself  on  the  road  at 
an  early  hour  in  the  morning  in  weather  which  was  doubt 
ful  but  did  not  appear  to  be  entirely  discouraging.  I  got 
as  far  as  Bath,  a  point,  I  think,  about  eighteen  miles 
distant,  having  encountered  on  the  road  nothing  more 
serious  than  half  a  dozen  heavy  showers. 

I  found  myself  seriously  disappointed  in  regard  to  one 
detail.  I  had  been  told  that  the  country  between  Bristol 
and  Bath  was  picturesque  and  that  on  either  side  of  the 
road  there  were  attractive  country  homes  or  estates. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  both  statements  were  correct,  but  I 
was  not  able  to  verify  them  by  my  own  eyes.  The  estates 
were  thoroughly  protected  by  solid  and  high  brick  walls 
over  which  the  view  of  a  boy  of  my  height  could  not 
possibly  reach,  and  I  had  to  take  the  picturesqueness  on 
faith.  If  the  same  trip  were  being  made  to-day,  the  boy 
would  be  mounted  on  his  wheel  and  his  view  would  be 
satisfactory  enough. 

By  the  time  I  reached  Bath,  the  showers  had  consoli 
dated  into  a  steady  pour.  I  waited  in  an  inn  for  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  the  weather  prognostications  being 
considered  unfavourable,  I  gave  up  the  tramp  as  a  bad 
job  and  took  a  second-class  ticket  for  London.  In  later 


98  Bristol  to  London  [1860 

journeyings  in  England  I  have  done  a  large  part  of  my 
travelling  by  the  third  class,  but  partly  in  connection  with 
my  recent  sojourn  in  the  high  society  of  the  Consul's 
family  and  partly  with  the  feeling  that  my  father's  position 
was  in  some  way  at  stake,  I  did  not  venture  during  this 
trip  below  the  second  class. 

Among  the  books  that  I  had  had  for  reading  matter  on 
the  voyage  over  was  the  clever  narrative  by  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted  entitled  Walks  and  Talks  of  an  American 
Farmer  in  England.  Olmsted's  journey  had  been  made 
in  1851  or  '52  and  the  book  was  one  of  the  Putnam 
publications.  His  descriptions  were  so  direct  and  vivid 
that  I  felt  as  if  I  knew  the  country  before  my  eyes  had 
rested  on  it.  The  book  would,  I  think,  still  have  value 
if  only  as  a  record  of  certain  country  conditions  which  have 
during  the  past  fifty  years  very  materially  changed  in 
England  as  elsewhere.  In  London  I  reported  myself  at 
the  Ludgate  Hill  Coffee  House,  the  name  of  which  had, 
I  judge,  been  put  into  my  note-book  by  my  father.  I 
remember  having  a  very  David  Copperfieldish  feeling  of 
extreme  youth  in  taking  my  first  solitary  dinner  in  the 
murky  coffee-room  and  in  having  a  waiter  entirely  at  my 
own  disposal.  I  can  still  recall  the  feeling  of  annoyance 
(perhaps  mortification  would  be  the  more  correct  word) 
in  having  my  phraseology  corrected  in  a  patriarchal 
manner  by  the  pompous  waiter.  I  had  put  some  question 
concerning  dessert  with  a  view  to  an  innocent  pudding,  and 
when  the  answer  had  referred  only  to  nuts  and  raisins 
and  I  had  explained  what  I  had  in  mind,  my  English  was 
very  promptly  set  to  rights.  "  Oh,  dear  sir,  in  this  country 
we  call  puddings,  sweets."  I  let  the  waiter  have  his  way 
in  the  matter  of  the  phraseology  as  long  as  I  got  the  pud 
ding.  My  stay  in  the  hotel  covered  only  a  couple  of  days, 
as  for  the  rest  of  the  sojourn  I  was  the  guest  of  my  father's 
old  friends  the  Rutters,  whose  home  was  still  in  Morning- 


1860]  London  to  Paris  99 

ton  Road.  There  is  a  convenience  in  going  from  decade 
to  decade  to  London  as  compared  with  other  cities,  in  that 
with  rare  exceptions  one's  friends  will  be  found  in  the  same 
abiding  places.  In  accordance  with  my  father's  instruc 
tions,  I  reported  myself  to  an  oculist  selected  under  the 
counsel  of  Dr.  Newton.  He  experimented  with  me  for  a 
fortnight,  and  then  reported  that  the  difficulty  did  not 
seem  to  yield  to  his  plan  of  treatment,  and  that  I  had 
better  consult  an  oculist  in  Paris  whose  name  he  gave  me. 
After  a  few  weeks'  visit  in  London,  I  found  my  way  to  a 
Channel  boat  and  a  few  hours  later  was  puzzling  over  my 
phrase  book  at  the  Paris  station  of  the  Chemin  de  fer  du 
Nord. 

I  had  the  address  in  Paris  of  the  son  of  John  F.  Trow, 
a  printer  of  New  York,  who  was  an  old  friend  of  my 
father's.  It  was  Trow,  senior,  who  had  in  1832  found 
means  for  the  printing  and  publication  of  a  little  journal 
called  The  Publishers'  Circular,  which  my  father,  at 
that  time  a  boy  of  eighteen  and  a  bookseller's  clerk,  had 
originated.  The  association  begun  with  this  little  under 
taking  continued  through  a  long  series  of  business  years, 
and  the  larger  portion  of  the  publications  of  the  Putnam 
House  during  my  father's  time  bore  the  imprint  of  the 
Trow  Press.  The  son  at  that  time  in  Paris  had  found  no 
taste  for  the  work  of  printing  or  for  any  business  interest. 
He  was  devoting  himself  to  the  study  of  French  literature, 
and  being  a  young  man  of  the  most  mature  and  staid 
habits,  and  already  at  home  in  Paris,  he  was  a  very  good 
person  for  a  youngster  to  be  consigned  to.  He  had 
secured  a  room  for  me  in  the  Pension  in  which  he  had 
himself  for  some  months  been  sojourning.  The  house  was 
in  the  old  Place  Royale  (after  1871  known  as  the  Place 
des  Vosges),  back  of  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  and  within  a  few 
steps  of  the  Place  de  la  Bastille.  The  Place  Royale  had 
been  constructed  in  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.  and  the  houses 


ioo  The  Place  Royale  [1860 

had,  under  municipal  enactment,  been  preserved  with 
their  original  facades.  The  two  streets  that  crossed  it 
at  right  angles  came  in  through  the  archways  beneath  the 
four  central  houses.  The  entrance  from  the  Rue  de 
Rivoli  came  beneath  the  keystone  house  of  the  square 
and  carried  over  the  main  floor  window  a  characteristic 
bust  of  Henry  IV.  It  was  in  this  house  in  the  ninth  or 
tenth  story,  up  under  the  roof,  that  I  had  a  convenient 
little  chamber  connecting  with  that  of  my  friend  Trow. 
The  sky  view  was  good  and  included  a  fine  variety  of  roof 
lines  and  chimney  pots. 

The  head  of  the  house,  Juste  Olivier,  a  cousin  of  the 
more  famous  Emile  Olivier,  was  a  Master  in  the  Lycee 
Charlemagne.  He  was  quite  ready  to  add  to  his  Master's 
salary  by  private  lessons,  and  several  of  the  fifteen  students 
who  formed  his  household  were,  like  myself,  taking  their 
French  from  their  landlord.  Outside  of  the  students,  the 
family  consisted  of  the  Master's  wife  and  a  daughter,  who 
in  my  memory  (which  may  have  been  somewhat  coloured) 
was  a  very  charming  young  person.  She  was  in  any  case 
attractive  enough  to  be  the  point  of  admiration  for  all  her 
father's  lodgers.  Their  admiration  had  to  be  given  at  a 
distance,  as  she  was  very  effectively  hedged  in,  in  the  din 
ing-room  and  in  the  reception  room  where  the  coffee  was 
taken,  by  the  portly  figures-  of  the  professor  and  his  wife. 
The  students'  circle  was  a  genial  one  and  gave  me  for  my 
first  months  in  Paris  some  pleasant  and  varied  companion 
ship  and  on  the  whole  a  comparatively  small  allowance  of 
mischief.  I  was  in  fact  really  too  young  to  come  under 
very  strong  temptation  in  regard  to  the  usual  students' 
risks  in  Paris.  I  remember  one  youngster  who  was  the 
millionaire  of  our  party,  his  father  being  a  wealthy  watch 
manufacturer  in  Switzerland.  He  luxuriated  in  the 
possession  of  the  state  chamber,  which  being  the  largest 
students'  room  in  the  house  was,  as  a  rule,  the  place  of  our 


1860]  Henry  IV.  Takes  a  Pipe  101 

gatherings.  The  idea  came  to  him  that  something  might 
be  done  with  the  head  of  Henry  IV.  This  head,  placed 
above  the  window  of  the  great  drawing-room  below,  was 
beneath  the  central  window  in  his  own  room  and  could  be 
reached  from  an  outer  ledge.  He  succeeded,  after  several 
futile  attempts,  in  piercing  through  the  plaster  and  brick 
of  his  wall  a  hole  which  connected  with  the  mouth  of 
Henry,  and  then  stepping  out  on  the  ledge,  he  worked  in 
between  the  lips  the  stem  of  a  long  clay  pipe.  The  square 
was  by  no  means  a  thoroughfare  and  the  passers-by  were 
few.  On  this  particular  afternoon,  however,  the  one  or 
two  who  first  passed  and  who  were  struck  with  the  novel 
effect  of  seeing  the  old  king  smoking  an  afternoon  pipe, 
stopped  and  pointed.  They  were  naturally  soon  joined 
by  other  passers  until  quite  a  group  stood  in  the  little 
square,  looking  up  at  the  mysterious  stream  of  smoke  com 
ing  from  the  stone  lips  of  King  Henry.  The  old  professor 
had  returned  from  his  classes  and  was  busy  in  his  study 
up  under  the  roof.  He  could  see  the  group  in  the  square 
pointing  at  his  house  but  naturally  could  not  identify  what 
it  was  that  had  excited  them.  He  began  coming  down  the 
long  twisted  stone  staircase  but  long  before  his  heavy 
steps  had  reached  the  door  of  his  Swiss  lodger,  the  pipe 
had  been  withdrawn,  the  flap  of  paper  carefully  replaced 
over  the  hole,  and  there  was  nothing  (within  the  building, 
at  least)  to  indicate  what  had  called  forth  the  attention  of 
the  crowd.  The  incident  occurred  only  a  day  or  two 
before  my  departure  from  the  house  and  I  never  learned 
whether  the  youngster  attempted  to  repeat  his  experi 
ment.  I  imagine  that  he  would  probably  have  been  for 
given  as  there  would  always  have  been  an  unwillingness  to 
push  matters  to  extremes  with  so  profitable  an  inmate. 

In  the  condition  of  my  eyes,  I  was  able  to  do  but  very 
little  reading.  Under  Trow's  advice,  I  entered  my  name 
for  a  couple  of  courses  of  lectures  at  the  Sorbonne.  One 


102  Student  Life  [1860- 

course  was  devoted  to  French  literature  and  the  other,  if 
I  remember  rightly,  to  the  literature  and  history  of  Rome. 
I  do  not  now  remember  what  had  influenced  my  selection 
of  subjects.  It  really  made  very  little  difference  as  during 
the  first  weeks,  at  least,  I  naturally  secured  not  very  much 
of  the  purport  of  the  lectures.  I  was,  however,  training 
my  ear,  and  with  this  aid  and  with  very  good  oral  instruc 
tion  from  landlord  Olivier,  I  made  better  progress  than  I 
had  at  first  ventured  to  hope  for.  My  days  soon  fell  into 
a  regular  routine.  My  first  lecture  at  the  Sorbonne  was, 
I  think,  at  nine,  and  the  walk  from  the  Place  Royale  across 
the  river  may  have  taken  thirty  minutes  or  more.  I 
remember  frequently  adding  a  few  minutes  to  its  length  in 
order  to  take  a  glimpse  as  I  passed  at  the  horrible  yet 
fascinating  window  of  the  Morgue.  The  Pont  Louis 
Philippe  which  formed  my  more  direct  route  has  since 
been  replaced  by  a  more  substantial  structure. 

Two  hours  were  given  to  the  lecture  rooms,  after  which 
there  was  the  usual  mid-day  breakfast .  Then  it  was  nearly 
always  possible  to  get  one  or  two  of  the  more  leisurely  of 
the  students  away  from  their  own  routine  (they  had  of 
course  a  longer  series  of  study  hours)  for  a  walk  towards 
Vincennes  or  to  other  woods  that  might  be  within  reach. 
The  days  of  cycles  were  not,  and  few  of  us  excepting  the 
Swiss  had  any  money  for  horses.  In  fact,  we  economised 
pretty  closely  on  railroad  fares.  Some  hours  each  week 
were  always  given  to  a  study  of  different  divisions  of  the 
great  galleries.  I  got  to  know  the  Luxembourg  pretty 
thoroughly  and  certain  bits  of  the  great  collection  of  the 
Louvre.  Among  the  pictures  in  the  Luxembourg  the 
memory  of  which  remains  with  me  was  the  Third  Day  of 
Terror  by  Miiller,  the  Decadence  of  the  Romans  by  Couture, 
the  Muezzin  by  Jerome,  and  the  Horse  Fair  by  Rosa 
Bonheur.  From  the  Louvre  I  recall  most  vividly  the 
group  of  Murillos  including  the  Immaculate  Conception, 


i86i]  The  Galleries  103 

and,  of  course,  the  Venus  of  Milo.  In  those  days,  she  was 
fully  accepted  as  a  Venus.  Behind  the  statue  was  hung 
the  drawing  of  a  reconstruction  which  had  been  prepared 
under  the  direction  of  the  Director  General  of  Louis 
Philippe  under  whose  control  the  statue  had  been  placed 
in  the  gallery  in  1846,  and  which  showed  the  lines  on  which 
the  arms  must  have  been  completed.  According  to  his 
theory,  which  was  the  one  accepted,  at  least  in  France,  for 
many  years,  the  left  hand  held  a  mirror  and  the  right  a 
comb.  It  took  at  least  two  revolutions  to  correct  this 
erroneous  conception.  The  Venus  passed  unscathed 
through  the  Revolution  of  1848,  the  coup  d'etat  of  1852,  and 
the  Prussian  siege  of  the  troublous  winter  of  1870-71. 
When,  towards  the  close  of  this  winter,  the  Communists 
were  for  some  weeks  in  control  of  Paris,  and  the  public 
collections,  and,  for  that  matter,  the  whole  city  were,  under 
the  desperation  of  the  leaders  of  the  lost  cause  of  the 
Commune,  threatened  with  destruction  by  fire,  certain 
men,  chiefly  artists  and  men  of  letters,  under  the  direction 
of  Elisee  Reclus,  formed  themselves  into  a  guard  for  the 
protection  of  the  treasures  of  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale, 
the  Luxembourg,  and  the  Louvre.  They  were  able,  by 
constant  vigilance  during  these  two  nights  of  flame  and 
destruction,  to  keep  the  vandals  away  from  these  buildings 
and  even  to  prevent  the  flames  from  the  Tuileries  from 
breaking  across  the  partitions  into  the  galleries  of  the 
Louvre.  It  was  reported  that  they  had  found  it  necessary 
to  use  pistols  with  certain  of  the  petroleuses.  Doubting 
whether  they  would  be  able  to  maintain  their  guard,  it 
seemed  to  them  wise  to  take  out  of  the  Louvre  two  of  the 
articles  of  the  most  world-wide  reputation  and  of  the 
greatest  value.  The  works  selected  were  the  Immaculate 
Conception  of  Murillo  and  the  Milo  statue  of  Venus.  The 
picture  and  the  statue  were  taken  down  at  some  time  when 
the  rioters  were  busy  elsewhere,  and  were  buried  under  the 


104  The  "  Venus  de  Milo"  [1860- 

wooden  floor  of  the  Mairie  of  the  arrondissement  just 
back  of  the  church  of  St.  Germain  1'Auxerrois. 

Later,  when  the  Thiers  government  came  in,  there 
was  for  a  time  no  little  dismay  on  the  part  of  the 
new  Director  General  of  Arts  and  Letters  when  he 
could  not  find  his  Venus  or  his  Murillo.  Reclus,  as 
an  office-holder  under  the  Commune  (he  had  caused 
himself  to  be  appointed  Director  General  of  Arts  and 
Letters  in  order  to  get  the  right  to  protect  the  galleries), 
had  been  promptly  arrested.  From  his  prison  he  man 
aged  after  a  day  or  two  to  get  word  to  the  new  Direc 
tor  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  missing  works  of  art, 
and  these  were  replaced  without  injury.  In  the  moving, 
however,  certain  wedges  which  had  been  placed  in  the  back 
of  the  Venus  fell  out.  These  wedges  had  apparently  been 
inserted  by  the  old  Director  of  the  Louvre  in  order  to  bring 
her  shoulders  to  conform  with  his  theory  of  a  Venus. 
With  the  straightening  up  of  her  shoulders  the  possibility 
of  her  hands  having  been  utilised  for  a  mirror  and  a  comb 
disappeared.  She  is,  I  understand,  now  classed  as  a  Vic 
tory,  but  I  have  forgotten  what  use  is  given  to  her  hands 
in  the  present  restoration.  In  the  winter  of  1860,  she  was 
satisfactory  enough  to  me  as  a  Venus.  I  had,  of  course, 
in  any  case  no  critical  art  knowledge.  I  had  just  enough 
education  to  be  impressed  by  certain  things,  and  I  was  glad 
to  find  that  it  was  the  really  great  things  that  impressed  me 
the  most  and  to  which  I  returned  the  most  regularly. 

Amusements  I  took  rather  economically.  My  room 
mate  was  like  myself  spending  the  smallest  possible 
amount  of  money,  while  apart  from  expenditure  his  tastes 
were  of  the  quietest.  I  took  an  occasional  evening  at  the 
Odeon,  the  students'  theatre  of  the  day.  For  the  Satur 
day  or  the  Sunday  afternoon  there  were  always  the  open 
entertainments  of  the  Champs-Elysees  in  the  one  direction 
or  the  Bois  de  Vincennes  in  the  other.  I  came  to  know 


i86i]  Reading  105 

fairly  well  the  odd  ends  of  Paris.  I  had  read  a  good  deal 
of  Victor  Hugo  and  what  eyesight  I  had  to  spare  during 
the  winter  I  gave  in  part,  at  least,  to  finishing  up  Les 
Miserables  and  Notre  Dame.  To  these  I  added  Sue's 
Les  Mysteres  de  Paris  and  I  think  also  at  the  same  time 
Monte  Cristo.  It  was  a  never  failing  interest  to  identify 
as  far  as  practicable  the  streets  and  squares  of  the  Faubourg 
St.  Antoine  or  of  the  Quartier  Latin  or  Montmartre  with 
the  incidents  of  the  romances.  I  allowed  myself  a  little 
reading  also  of  the  morning  papers.  Our  host  was  a 
Republican,  but  being  an  official  (the  Lycee  Charlemagne 
belonged  of  course  to  the  government  system)  he  kept 
pretty  quiet  on  political  matters.  The  students  took  in 
such  papers  as  happened  to  fit  with  their  own  political 
proclivities.  I  read  the  Journal  des  Debats  and  permitted 
my  views  of  French  politics  to  be  guided  by  the  gracefully 
written  editorials  of  Louis  Alloury.  I  also  read,  if  only 
for  contrast,  the  two  Ultramontane  papers,  U  Union  and 
Le  Monde.  In  the  winter  of  1 860-61,  the  Ultramontanists 
were  becoming  very  pugnacious  indeed  in  regard  to  the 
fate  of  Bomba.  For  some  reason  or  other,  the  destinies 
of  conservative  and  orthodox  monarchy  seemed  for  the 
moment  to  be  bound  up  with  the  fate  of  the  disreputable 
little  kingdom  of  Naples.  As  the  particular  revolution  of 
this  winter  progressed,  Bomba's  territories  became  smaller 
and  smaller  until  finally  he  was  shut  up  in  Gaeta,  the  siege 
of  which  lasted  long  enough  to  give  time  for  the  concen 
tration  of  orthodox  sympathies  throughout  Europe.  The 
loyalists  could  sympathise,  but  they  could,  however,  do 
nothing  else.  Gaeta  fell,  and  when  Garibaldi  handed  over 
to  Victor  Emmanuel,  as  the  residuary  legatee,  the  control 
of  the  territory  of  Naples,  a  large  step  had  been  taken 
towards  the  unity  of  Italy. 

After  I  had  been  in  Paris  two  or  three  months  and  had 
felt  my  way  into  the  French  language,  I  received  a  call  from 


io6  I  Act  as  Cicerone  [1860- 

C.,  a  New  York  acquaintance  who  brought  a  line  of  intro 
duction  from  my  father.  Young  C.  had  lately  bought  a 
controlling  share  in  the  ownership  of  a  New  York  paper. 
He  had  no  experience  in  journalism,  and  it  is  my  impression 
that  his  partners,  in  order  to  free  themselves  for  the  mo 
ment  from  the  difficulties  of  his  inexperienced  "control," 
had  planned  for  him  this  trip  to  Europe  where  he  was  to 
act  as  a  special  correspondent.  He  certainly  had  no  better 
training  for  a  correspondent  than  for  an  editor.  He  knew 
no  language  but  his  own,  while  his  knowledge  of  history 
or  of  European  conditions  was  of  the  slightest.  He  had, 
however,  what  might  be  called  the  Yankee  readiness  for 
guessing  at  things  which  he  did  not  understand  and  for 
putting  together  into  an  attractive  narrative  the  results 
of  his  guesses.  I  felt  myself  to  be  quite  a  finished  French 
man  in  listening  to  C.'s  vague  questions  about  matters  in 
France  and  in  hearing  his  struggles  with  the  language  for 
the  ordinary  requirements  of  the  streets.  He  finally 
induced  me  to  devote  two  or  three  days  to  showing  him 
about  Paris.  I  was  to  steer  him  into  the  gallery  of  the 
Corps  Legislatif ;  I  was  to  take  him  to  the  Pantheon,  to 
the  Champs-Elysees,  to  the  Hotel  des  Invalides,  and  to  the 
big  galleries;  I  was  to  point  out  to  him  the  noteworthy 
things,  of  which  he  could  secure  a  rapid  impression ;  I  was 
to  give  him  some  information  as  to  the  matters  that  were 
being  talked  about  in  the  street  and  were  being  discussed 
in  the  morning  papers,  and  finally  I  was  to  hand  him  over 
to  certain  guides  who  could  steer  him  (as  I  could  not) 
into  certain  of  the  dissipations  of  Paris,  of  which  he  said 
it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  him  to  know  something, 
although,  as  he  explained,  he  had  himself  no  personal  tastes 
for  dissipation. 

In  return  for  these  various  services,  I  was  to  have  my 
"scot"  paid  for  all  journeyings,  amusements,  etc.,  and 
was  to  have  the  further  advantage  of  placing  under  an 


i86i]  I  Act  as  Cicerone  107 

obligation  a  friend  who  expected  to  exercise  as  a  journalist 
a  large  influence  in  the  country.  I  did  my  part  dutifully 
enough  and  with  a  large  feeling  of  responsibility  to  the 
readers  of  the  New  York  paper.  I  was  impressed  with  the 
true  seriousness  of  possible  consequences  in  case  the  in 
formation  given  by  me  concerning  matters  in  France  might 
be  erroneous  or  misleading.  I  was  puzzled  to  understand, 
however,  how  my  friend  was  going  to  make  up  from  this 
hastily  gathered  information  and  from  my  more  or  less 
haphazard  translations  of  French  utterances,  any  letters 
that  could  be  taken,  or  that  ought  to  be  taken,  as  guides  to 
French  conditions.  I  was  not  a  little  interested  in  having 
the  opportunity  of  reading,  after  the  necessary  interval 
of  three  or  four  weeks,  the  first  two  of  the  letters.  Friend 
C.  had  certainly  been  very  clever,  if  not  very  accurate. 
He  appeared  in  these  letters  to  have  skimmed  the  surface 
of  Paris  society.  He  gave  the  on  dits  of  the  street,  the 
issues  of  the  Legislative  Assembly,  the  witicisms  of  the 
theatre  foyer,  the  banalities  of  the  students  in  the  lobbies 
of  the  lecture-rooms,  the  precis  even  of  the  leading  edi 
torials,  and  a  very  fair  survey  of  the  condition  of  French 
art.  Where  it  all  came  from  I  am  still  puzzled  to  remem 
ber.  I  began  to  feel  as  if  I  myself  must  have  been  a 
genius  without  knowing  it.  In  leaving  Paris,  he  thanked 
me  very  cordially  for  my  valuable  co-operation  in  journal 
ism.  That  experience  is  now  more  than  fifty  years  back, 
and  my  friend  is  still  a  journalist  although  no  longer 
interested  in  his  original  journal. 

My  study  of  conditions  of  life  in  Paris  naturally  included 
some  experience  with  the  churches.  It  is  to  be  borne 
in  mind  that  I  was  myself  at  this  time  still  to  be  classed  as 
a  Calvinist,  having  retained  my  membership  in  the  First 
Baptist  Church.  As  soon  as  my  ear  had  been  sufficiently 
trained  to  take  in  the  meaning  of  French  oratory  (and 
in  fact  some  time  before  I  was  able  to  fully  understand 


io8  The  Churches  [1860- 

spoken  French  with  any  degree  of  accuracy),  I  made  my 
way  in  succession  to  one  of  the  two  or  three  congregations 
of  French  Protestants  which  were  at  that  time  permitted 
to  exist  in  Paris.  Under  the  regulations  of  the  Empire, 
regulations  which  were  continued  later  under  the  Republic, 
Protestant  congregations  in  Paris,  and  throughout  France, 
were  registered  or  licensed  by  the  government  and  received 
a  certain  percentage  of  the  state  appropriation  for  religious 
instruction.  I  do  not  pretend  to  know  whether  this 
percentage  was  allotted  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the 
congregation  or  to  the  number  of  Protestant  believers  in 
France.  It  was  my  impression  that  the  government  found 
it  convenient  to  make  this  subsidy  as  in  so  doing  it  secured 
the  right  to  supervise  the  teaching  given  in  the  pulpit. 
I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  sermons  were  under  cen 
sorship,  but  it  was  certainly  the  case  that  no  preacher 
could  utilise  the  pulpit  of  a  licensed  Protestant  congrega 
tion  as  the  channel  for  the  distribution  of  opinions  that 
were  considered  dangerous  by  the  authorities.  Athanase 
Cocquerel,  the  incumbent  of  the  oldest  of  the  Protestant 
pulpits,  had  had  his  training  in  Geneva.  I  judge  that  this 
was  the  routine  pursued  at  the  time  by  all  young  Protest 
ant  students  who  were  giving  themselves  to  the  study  of 
divinity.  I  doubt  whether  there  was  in  France  under  the 
Empire  any  school  of  Protestant  theology.  The  French 
of  the  pulpit  was  different  enough  from  that  of  the  Sor- 
bonne,  or  from  the  classic  literature  which  Olivier  went 
over  with  me  in  my  home  lessons.  It  was,  however,  quite 
simple  in  structure  and  I  found  myself,  more  speedily 
than  I  had  anticipated,  following  with  fair  understanding 
the  arguments  and  invocations.  I  remember  being 
impressed  with  what  I  might  call  the  mediaeval  character 
of  this  preaching.  The  doctrines  and  the  theology  seemed 
much  nearer  to  the  period  of  the  Reformation  than  was  the 
case  with  the  utterances  that  I  had  been  accustomed  to 


r86i]  The  Churches  109 

from  Calvinist  pulpits  in  New  York.  I  may  admit  that 
the  New  Testament  in  French  never  seemed  to  me  to  be 
quite  scriptural,  while  the  Old  Testament  for  some  reason 
or  other  impressed  me  in  some  passages  as  really  ludicrous. 
The  natural  generalisation  of  the  conceited  Anglo-Saxon 
is  that  French  is  not  a  language  for  devotion,  a  generalisa 
tion  which  is  doubtless  as  false  as  most  others. 

I  interested  myself  also  in  attending  Mass  in  a  number  of 
the  more  noteworthy  of  the  Catholic  churches,  including, 
of  course,  Notre  Dame,  la  Sainte  Chapelle,  and  St. 
Germain  1'Auxerrois.  The  list  did  not  include  St.  Gene- 
vieve  because  the  building  that  had  originally  been  con 
secrated  to  this  particular  saint  was  in  my  time  still  doing 
duty  as  a  pantheon.  I  believe  as  a  matter  of  fact  that 
the  aegis  of  the  saint  had  been  transferred  to  some  other 
church  in  the  parish.  The  Pantheon  struck  me  as  cold 
and  unattractive.  It  did  not  seem  possible  to  get  up  any 
enthusiasm  for  the  "worship  of  humanity'*  in  that  great 
empty  structure,  or  to  humanise  again  the  men  whose 
statues  surrounded  the  rotunda. 

I  remember  being  not  a  little  impressed  with  the  stirring 
eloquence  that  on  certain  days  (the  preachers  changed 
from  week  to  week)  one  could  listen  to  in  Notre  Dame. 
The  Catholic  Church  is  wise  in  its  organising  policy.  It 
does  not  commit  the  mistake,  which  under  the  arrange 
ment  of  Protestant  churches  is  almost  inevitable,  of 
assuming  that  a  man  may  be  well  fitted  both  for  parish 
duties  and  for  preaching.  As  I  understand  the  method 
pursued,  the  priests  are  tested,  during  their  novitiate  and 
later  in  their  active  years,  for  all  classes  of  work  and  are 
finally  assigned,  according  to  what  might  be  called  a 
common-sense  business  method,  to  the  work  that  they 
can  do  best.  As  a  result,  in  each  fully  organised  Catholic 
parish,  the  parish  visiting  is  carried  on  by  one  set  of 
workers,  the  executive  business  and  management  of  the 


no  The  Churches  [1860- 

property  is  cared  for  by  another  group,  while  the  pulpit 
is  reserved  for  men,  taken  in  turns  from  week  to  week,  who 
have  shown  a  power  for  reaching  their  hearers  with 
inspiring  eloquence.  It  is  my  impression  from  my  experi 
ence  in  Paris  and  later  in  Germany,  that  the  average 
Catholic  preaching  is  more  intelligent  and  more  effective 
than  that  of  Protestant  pastors,  at  least  in  any  of  the 
state  churches.  I  have  never  heard  in  a  Catholic  pulpit 
such  trivialities  or  banalities  as  one  sometimes  comes  into 
touch  with  in  visits  to  successive  churches  in  England; 
while  it  need  hardly  be  said  that  the  preaching  of  the 
great  leaders  in  the  English  church  is  not  to  be  excelled  in 
any  other  religious  community.  It  would  be  absurd  to 
say,  however,  that  these  reflections  occurred  to  the  small 
boy  who  was  making  his  own  first  comparisons  of  Catholic 
and  Protestant  methods  in  Paris.  It  is  almost  impossible 
to  avoid  confusing  with  the  reminiscences  of  the  earlier 
years  conclusions  which  were  not  reached  until  later  life. 
My  roommate,  George  Trow,  was  my  companion  at  the 
hours  of  the  Protestant  service.  He  was,  however,  him 
self  too  good  a  Presbyterian  to  be  willing  to  join  me  for  the 
early  Mass.  I  do  not  think  that  at  any  time  did  I  per 
suade  him  to  go  into  a  Catholic  Church  during  service. 

I  had,  of  course,  very  little  opportunity  while  in  Paris 
of  seeing  what  is  called  society.  My  father  could  have 
secured  letters  which  would  have  brought  me  into  certain 
social  circles,  but  I  was  really  too  young  to  be  properly 
available  for  social  functions,  and  my  French  was  also 
too  fragmentary  for  social  requirements.  I  remember 
presenting  one  letter  (I  do  not  recall  just  why  it  should  have 
been  given  to  me)  that  came  from  my  father,  to  a  certain 
Comte  de  Circourt.  The  Comte  was  a  member  of  the 
Academy  and  had  made  himself  an  authority  in  history, 
giving  special  attention  to  the  record  of  the  relations  of 
France  in  North  America.  He  mentioned  that  he  had  had 


Paris  Friends  in 

some  correspondence  with  my  father  concerning  the 
American  authorities  on  his  special  subject  matter.  I 
know  that  while  I  sat  waiting  for  him  in  the  outer  division 
of  his  series  of  libraries,  my  eye  rested  upon  a  group  of 
sets  of  American  histories  which  included,  in  addition 
to  Bancroft  and  Hildreth,  the  two  earlier  volumes  of 
Parkman.  The  fame  of  Parkman  was,  however,  still  to 
come,  and  I  doubt  whether  the  Comte,  who  was  when  I  saw 
him  in  1860  already  an  old  man,  lived  to  read  the  Mont- 
calm  and  Wolfe.  He  certainly  did,  however,  understand 
a  good  deal  about  American  history.  He  was  very  civil 
to  the  small  Yankee  student,  but  perplexed  me  somewhat 
with  his  long  series  of  conundrums  concerning  American 
political  conditions.  He  was,  of  course,  familiar  with  his 
de  Tocqueville,  and  he  wanted  to  ascertain  what  changes, 
if  any,  had  occurred  in  the  political  organisation  of  our 
state  since  the  day  of  de  Tocqueville' s  visit  to  the  country. 
I  was  to  tell  him  as  precisely  as  possible  the  present  rela 
tion  between  the  town  and  the  township,  the  township 
and  the  county,  and  the  county  and  the  state.  I  was  also 
to  make  clear  to  him  the  precise  division  of  responsibilities 
between  the  state  and  the  national  government. 

If  I  could  only  have  looked  ahead  a  year  or  two,  I 
ought,  of  course,  to  have  cautioned  him  to  wait  until  the 
Civil  War  was  over  when  the  last  named  inquiry  could 
have  received  a  fuller  reply.  I  am  afraid  that  the  informa 
tion  that  I  was  able  to  give  to  the  political  catechiser  was 
neither  comprehensive  nor  precise.  I  did  know  a  little 
about  the  New  England  township  and  I  had  some  impres 
sions  concerning  the  relations  of  New  York  with  Albany 
and  of  Albany  with  Washington.  If  I  only  could  have 
referred  the  Comte  to  the  two  volumes  of  Bryce,  my  task 
would  have  been  completed,  but  unfortunately  the  Comte 
would  have  had  to  wait  more  than  twenty  years  for  the 
report  of  the  shrewd  Scotch  investigator.  He  gave  me  a 


ii2  Paris  Friends  [1860- 

cup  of  coffee,  apologising  for  not  having  the  tea  which  he 
understood  Americans  and  Englishmen  preferred,  but 
which  he  himself  used  only  when  he  had  the  migraine. 
He  offered  me  some  cigarettes  and  praised  me  for  refusing. 
"Yes, "  he  said,  "you  young  students  ought  to  be  temper 
ate,  but  you  are  a  long  way  from  home."  I  remember 
being  impressed  with  his  button  as  an  officer  in  the  Legion 
of  Honour.  I  had  had  the  vague  impression,  until  this 
interview,  that  the  Legion  of  Honour  was  reserved  for  men 
who  had  distinguished  themselves  in  the  army.  On 
returning  to  my  pension,  I  secured  from  old  Olivier  a  full 
record  of  the  development  of  the  Order  which,  according 
to  my  host,  had  had  a  wide  influence  for  the  development 
of  achievement  in  science  and  in  literature  not  only  in 
France  but  throughout  the  world.1 

My  second  letter  was  presented  to  a  very  different  char 
acter.  Mr.  Henry  Hufitington  had  for  many  years  lived 
in  Paris  and  had  been  the  correspondent  of  the  New  York 
Tribune  since  1858.  Horace  Greeley,  the  energetic  editor 
of  the  Tribune,  was  a  good  friend  of  my  father's.  He 
had  possibly  suggested  that  Mr.  Huntington,  with  his 
old-time  knowledge  of  Paris,  might  be  of  some  service 
in  keeping  the  boy  out  of  mischief.  I  waited  upon 
him  in  his  den  which,  while  full  of  books  and  papers,  was 
as  different  as  might  be  from,  the  well  ordered  library  of 
the  noble  member  of  the  Academy.  Huntington's  books, 
like  those  of  the  Comte,  were  contained  in  several  apart 
ments,  but  these  apartments  included  bedroom,  dining- 
room,  sitting-room,  and  study,  between  which  the  books 
were  distributed  in  so  miscellaneous  a  fashion  that  it  was 
difficult  to  understand  how  the  scholarly  owner  (and 

1  Thirty  years  later,  I  had  the  honour,  on  the  ground,  according  to  my 
parchment,  of  "services  rendered  to  France  and  to  literature"  (in  connec 
tion  with  the  International  Copyright  Bill),  of  being  myself  accepted  as  a 
Chevalier  in  the  Order. 


i86i]  Paris  Friends  113 

Huntington  was,  as  is  by  no  means  always  the  case  with 
journalists,  a  real  scholar)  could  put  his  hand  with  due 
promptness  upon  the  particular  volume  required.  My 
New  England  standard  was  somewhat  unpleasantly 
impressed  with  the  general  dirt  of  this  series  of  book- 
cumbered  rooms.  The  volumes  looked  as  if  they  had  not 
been  dusted  since  the  beginning  of  the  Empire,  and  as  they 
covered  the  floor  and  the  tables  as  well  as  the  book  shelves, 
it  seemed  probable  that  the  duster  had  not  even  been 
permitted  to  touch  the  furniture.  In  between  the  books 
lay  a  variety  of  pipes,  many  of  which  had  evidently  been 
placed  at  chance  immediately  after  the  smoking  and  with 
the  ashes  still  in  them. 

These  were,  however,  minor  matters;  Huntington  re 
ceived  the  young  Yankee  with  cordial  hospitality  and 
placed  himself  at  once  en  rapport  with  my  interests  and 
requirements.  He  was  of  considerable  service,  not  so 
much  in  keeping  me  out  of  mischief  as  in  suggesting  the 
lectures  that  I  could  take  hold  of  to  best  advantage  with 
my  lack  of  college  training,  the  sights  in  Paris  which  were 
most  profitable  for  the  time  and  (lack  of)  knowledge  that 
I  possessed,  and  above  all  the  places  outside  of  Paris  to 
which  inexpensive  trips  could  be  made  to  best  advantage. 
I  remember,  after  my  first  talk,  breakfasting  with  him  and 
meeting  a  group  of  young  Americans  one  or  two  of  whom 
were  still  fresher  than  myself.  I  had  also  one  excursion 
with  him,  in  company  with  one  or  two  older  friends,  to  St. 
Cloud.  I  had,  of  course,  no  right  to  trouble  the  busy  man 
often,  but  his  personality  attracted  me  much  and  I  wish 
that  I  could  have  seen  more  of  him.  I  remember  his  talk, 
I  think  it  must  have  been  to  others  rather  than  myself, 
concerning  the  stability  of  the  French  Empire  and  (a 
matter  that  interested  him  much  more  nearly)  concerning 
the  risk  of  civil  war  in  the  United  States.  He  was  not  a 
very  good  prophet  on  either  subject,  but  in  that  respect 


ii4  Prophecies  of  War  [1860- 

he  differed  very  little  from  other  wise  students  of  the 
times.  He  thought  war  in  the  United  States  impossible. 
He  believed  that  that  generation  of  Americans  would  con 
cede  and  postpone  as  the  generation  under  Webster  had 
conceded  and  postponed.  "No,  no!"  he  said,  "the  South 
will  overstretch  its  claims  and  will  exhaust  the  patience  of 
its  Northern  opponents.  The  time  will  come  when  the 
North  will  prefer  rather  to  risk  the  existence  of  the  nation 
than  to  stand  a  longer  series  of  truculence  and  assumptions 
on  the  part  of  the  States  south  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon 
Line,  but  I  doubt  whether  I  shall  live  to  see  the  protest 
made,  at  least  in  such  a  manner  that  the  South  will  believe 
that  it  will  be  backed  up  by  force."  It  would  have  been 
interesting  to  talk  this  matter  over  with  Huntington 
five  years  later.  Of  the  Empire  he  doubted  the  stability, 
but  he  thought  that  the  foundations  were  more  insecure 
than  they  proved  to  be.  It  was  his  belief  that  serious 
trouble  would  come  within  the  next  few  years.  This 
idea  was  a  little  exceptional  at  the  time,  because  the 
successful  conclusion  of  the  Italian  campaigns  of  1859 
had  certainly  very  much  strengthened  the  hold  of  Na 
poleon  on  France.  I  should  say  that  the  later  history 
had  shown  the  soundness  of  Huntington's  analysis  of 
the  weakness  of  the  Empire,  but  it  took  ten  years  to  bring 
this  prophec}?-  to  a  fulfilment.  - 

A  third  letter  was  presented  to  the  Reverend  Dr.  Mc- 
Clintock,  who  was  at  that  time  in  charge  of  the  American 
Chapel  in  Paris.  Dr.  McClintock  was  one  of  the  scholarly 
leaders  in  the  Methodist  denomination,  a  church  which 
includes  many  earnest  workers  but  not  so  many  scholars. 
He  had  been  sent  abroad  for  a  rest  and  change  and  it  was 
only  in  connection,  I  think,  with  some  unexpected  vacancy 
in  the  American  Chapel  that  he  had  taken  charge  of  the 
services  for  this  winter.  I  went  once  or  twice,  as  in  duty 
bound,  to  hear  him  preach,  but  I  admit  that  I  found 


i86i]  Dr.  McClintock  115 

Coquerel  on  the  whole  more  interesting.  I  was,  of  course, 
fairly  familiar  with  the  ground  covered  by  McClintock's 
sermons,  and  I  believe  further  that  his  repute  was  rather 
that  of  a  scholar  than  of  a  preacher.  Later,  he  had 
charge  of  the  Methodist  Church  on  Fourth  Avenue  and 
22nd  Street,  the  congregation  of  which  has  more  recently 
removed  to  West  End  Avenue  and  86th  Street.  His 
principal  literary  undertaking  was  in  collaboration  with 
Dr.  Strong  in  the  compilation  of  an  Encyclopedia  of  Bib 
lical  Knowledge.  The  encyclopaedia  was  published  by  the 
Harpers,  the  first  generation  of  which,  the  four  original 
brothers,  were  all  good  Methodists.  The  Doctor  was 
very  cordial  to  the  publisher's  son  and  gave  me,  in  fact, 
more  invitations  than  I  found  it  convenient  to  accept. 
His  home,  close  to  the  Chapel,  was  in  one  of  the  streets  lead 
ing  off  the  Champs-Elysees  and  was  a  long  distance  from 
my  own  quarters.  It  was  also  the  case  that  the  American 
circle  of  which  he  was  the  centre  was  the  very  group  that 
it  was  desirable  for  me  to  avoid.  Having  so  little  time 
in  Paris,  I  did  what  I  could  to  keep  my  ears  free  from 
English  or  from  English-spoken  French. 


VII 
A  Student  in  Germany 

IN  March  of  this  winter  of  1861,  in  accordance  with 
the  counsel  of  my  Paris  oculist,  I  decided  to  make  a 
journey  to  Berlin  for  the  purpose  of  having  my  eyes 
examined  by  von  Graefe  who  ranked  at  that  time  as 
the  leading  oculist  in  Europe.  My  French  advisor  had 
worked  patiently  over  my  eyes  but  had  not  succeeded  in 
putting  them  into  such  shape  that  I  could  do  any  read 
ing,  and  I  was,  naturally,  impatient  for  further  progress. 
One  of  the  American  friends  whom  I  had  come  to  know  in 
Paris  as  an  inmate  of  our  pension,  had  himself  migrated  to 
Berlin  in  February,  and  I  had  the  advantage  (which  for  a 
youngster  who  knew  no  German  and  had  no  other  friends 
in  the  Prussian  capital,  was  a  very  material  advantage)  of 
being  able  to  report  myself  to  the  family  where  my  friend 
had  already  secured  quarters.  The  friend  in  question  was 
Henry  Rose  Hinckley  who  was  the  son  of  a  well-to-do 
manufacturer  in  Northampton,  Massachusetts.  Hinck 
ley  had  been  graduated  with  honors  from  Yale  (he  was 
three  or  four  years  older  than  myself) ,  and  was  now  making 
the  European  round  which  was  considered  desirable  for  the 
American  college  graduate,  before  he  should  settle  down 
to  the  work  of  business  or  of  a  profession.  Hinckley  was 
taking  his  round  with  a  full  measure  of  intelligence.  He 
had  been  long  enough  in  Paris  to  get  a  fair  mastership  of 

116 


i86i]  Henry  R.  Hinckley  117 

French  and  Olivier  congratulated  him  on  the  grace  of  his 
pronunciation.  He  had  followed  two  or  three  courses 
of  lectures  in  the  Sorbonne  and  was  proposing  to  matricu 
late  himself  for  some  work  in  literature  and  in  history 
in  the  University  of  Berlin.  He  was  in  those  days  a 
cheery  and  light-hearted  youngster  and  in  these  later 
times,  for  I  have  kept  in  touch  with  him  during  the  past 
forty  years  in  which  there  have  come  to  him  a  full  meas 
ure  of  cares  and  misfortunes,  it  is  pleasant  for  him  to 
recall  that  he  did  get  fun  out  of  his  experiences  as  a 
student  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  I  remember  a 
characteristic  picture  of  my  long-legged  friend  balancing 
himself  on  one  leg  of  a  chair  in  my  room,  with  his  feet 
gracefully  poised  on  the  mantelpiece.  The  mantelpiece 
was  so  far  out  of  the  reach  of  my  own  toes  that  I  could 
not  but  look  on  with  admiration.  The  appreciation  was 
not  so  keen  on  the  part  of  our  landlord  who  happened  to 
come  in  at  the  moment  and  evidently  was  troubled 
for  the  safety  of  his  chair.  Hinckley  bowed  gracefully, 
without  disturbing  his  pivot.  "Will  you  let  me  know, 
Mr.  Hinckley,"  said  the  professor,  "what,  according  to 
your  understanding,  the  other  three  legs  of  the  chair  are 
made  for?"  "Oh,  certainly,  sir,"  said  Hinckley;  "they 
are  to  support  the  chair  when  nobody  is  sitting  on  it." 
On  a  rainy  day  in  March,  I  bade  farewell  to  my  chum 
Trow,  to  the  professor,  the  wife,  the  pretty  daughter,  and 
my  group  of  student  acquaintances,  and  took  the  rail 
road  for  Berlin  by  way  of  Strasburg.  I  was  the  master 
at  that  time  of  no  single  word  of  German.  I  was  not 
expecting  to  spend  any  hours  or  any  extra  thaler  in  sight 
seeing  on  the  trip,  but  I  had  decided  to  stay  over  a  train 
in  order  to  inspect  the  Cathedral  at  Cologne.  In  the 
train  I  practised  up  from  my  phrase-book,  "Wo  ist  der 
Dom?"  I  thought  that  it  would  be  absolutely  necessary, 
as  I  was  to  have  but  an  hour  or  so  at  my  command,  that 


n8  Cologne 

I  should  lose  no  time  in  being  steered  through  the  streets 
of  Cologne  to  my  Cathedral.  When  I  alighted  on  the 
long  platform  of  the  station,  I  recognised  that  I  need  not 
have  been  so  anxious.  The  great  mass  of  the  Cathedral 
towered  over  the  town  in  such  fashion  that  it  was  hardly 
possible  to  lose  sight  of  it.  I  gave  up  the  chance  for 
dinner  in  order  to  have  the  entire  time  for  the  building 
and  I  succeeded  in  investigating  as  many  corners  as  were 
at  that  time  open  for  travellers.  With  the  aid  of  some 
extra  groschen  I  was  even  permitted  to  make  my  way 
up  a  temporary  staircase  to  the  top  of  one  of  the  towers 
where  had  been  standing  for  many  years  the  builders' 
crane  just  as  it  had  been  left  when  the  work  had  last  been 
suspended.  The  crane  was  blackened  with  age  and  was 
probably  no  longer  fit  for  service.  The  Cathedral  au 
thorities  had  at  one  time  proposed  to  take  it  down  but  their 
decision  met  with  so  strong  a  protest  that  they  gave  up 
the  idea  and  permitted  the  blackened  timber  to  remain  to 
decay  at  its  leisure,  with  some  risk  I  imagine  of  a  debacle 
on  to  the  street  below.  The  protest  was  based  on  the 
feeling  that  the  coming  down  of  the  crane  would  be  an 
indication  that  the  plan  for  the  completion  of  the  spires 
had  been  given  up  and  that,  as  was  the  case  with  so  many 
of  the  cathedrals  of  Europe,  this  also  was  to  be  left  unfin 
ished.  I  believe  it  was  not  until  after  the  War  of  1866, 
when  Prussia  had  established  its  control  over  Germany, 
that,  with  a  special  grant  from  the  Prussian  treasury, 
the  building  operations  were  resumed.  The  spires  were 
completed  (with  the  use  of  funds  from  the  French  indem 
nity)  sometime  after  1870  and  the  Cathedral  is  one  of 
the  few  in  Europe  which  is  not  more  or  less  of  an  unfinished 
fragment. 

The  purchase  of  a  couple  of  sandwiches,  obtained  with 
no  great  difficulty  by  the  sign  language  (I  could  not  find 
sandwich  in  my  dictionary),  made  up  for  the  loss  of  my 


i86i]  Berlin  1 19 

dinner  and  I  resumed  my  journey  with  one  bit  of  fresh 
experience  that  took  me  right  back  to  mediaeval  times. 
I  think  that  the  trip  from  Paris  to  Berlin  occupied  at  that 
time  about  twenty-six  hours.  While  I  had  no  compan 
ions,  the  way  did  not  seem  tedious  as  from  the  car  window 
I  was  taking  in  from  mile  to  mile  fresh  views  of  interest. 
The  country  between  Cologne  and  Berlin  is  for  the  most 
part  certainly  not  picturesque,  but  there  was  an  interest 
in  hearing  called  out  at  the  stations  names  that  could  be 
connected  with  historic  events. 

My  faithful  friend  Hinckley  met  me  at  the  terminus  at 
Berlin,  realising  that  my  phrase-book  might  not  have 
steered  me  safely  across  the  city.  He  had  secured  econom 
ical  but  comfortable  quarters  for  me  in  the  house  where 
he  was  himself  living  at  22  Kleine  Miinze  Strasse.  The 
host  for  our  apartment  was  named  Lindermann  and  like 
our  professor  in  Paris,  he  was  an  instructor,  but  instead  of 
holding  a  government  position  he  was  at  the  head  of  a 
private  school.  I  remember  later  when  I  was  able  to  do 
some  talking  in  German,  being  catechised  by  Lindermann 
as  to  the  fees  paid  for  private  schooling  in  my  own  country. 
When  ^reported  to  him  annual  payments  averaging  from 
$200  to  $400,  he  broke  the  tenth  commandment  very 
decidedly.  "Oh,"  said  he,  "I  should  be  a  millionaire  if  I 
could  secure  from  my  boys  one  quarter  of  the  amount 
of  such  munificent  stipends."  He  had,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  some  two  hundred  pupils,  and  yet  with  the  most 
continued  hard  work,  his  income  was  very  moderate. 
The  establishment  was  much  more  compact  than  the 
Pension  Olivier.  In  addition  to  the  family  (mother, 
daughter,  and  niece),  there  were  but  two  other  students. 
Hinckley  was  in  the  full  swing  of  German  lectures.  He 
found  himself  with  his  French  training  rather  antipathetic 
both  to  the  language  and  to  the  general  conditions;  but, 
Yankee  fashion,  he  was  determined  to  get  the  most  out 


120  Dr.  Von  Graefe  [1861 

of  his  experience.  I  did  not  venture  to  matriculate 
for  any  regular  courses,  but  I  took  advantage  of  the  privi 
lege,  extended  in  all  German  universities,  of  ho spitir en- 
den  in  an  occasional  lecture-room,  if  only  for  the  purpose  of 
accustoming  my  ear  to  the  sound  of  the  language,  a  sound 
which  seemed  harsh  enough  after  the  language  of  the 
Paris  lecture-room.  My  first  task,  of  course,  was  to 
report  to  the  oculist.  The  Baron  von  Graefe,  for  he 
held  that  rank  in  a  noble  family  of  North  Prussia,  was  at 
that  time,  although  still  a  young  man,  at  the  head  of  his 
branch  of  the  profession  in  Europe.  I  can  recall  the 
impression  made  upon  me  by  the  beauty  and  piercing 
quality  of  his  eyes.  The  whole  face  was  fine  but  the  eyes 
and  the  forehead  were  particularly  noble.  He  was  very 
sympathetic  with  the  small  Yankee  who  was  so  anxious 
to  get  the  use  of  his  eyesight  and  he  told  me  that  if  I  would 
be  patient  for  a  month  or  two,  it  would  be  all  right.  He 
began  his  talking  in  French  but  reverted  without  difficulty 
to  English  when  he  found  that  certain  of  the  phrases  of 
the  diagnosis  were  not  quite  clear  to  me.  I  remember  that 
one  detail  of  his  treatment  consisted  in  the  removal  of  the 
eye-lashes  or  of  a  large  portion  of  them  in  order  to  enable 
him  to  control  better  the  chronic  inflammation  on  the  in 
side  of  the  lids.  It  was  troublesome,  but  it  proved  to  be 
worth  while,  and  by  May  I  was  permitted  to  read  for  a 
certain  number  of  hours  per  day.  Before  that  I  had  been 
limited  to  very  small  fragments. 

In  the  absence  of  reading  I  gave  my  time  largely  to  the 
galleries.  I  have  not  seen  Berlin  since  1860.  I  under 
stand  that  in  these  later  years  the  galleries  have  been 
quadrupled  in  extent  and  in  completeness  and  that  the 
whole  city  has  developed  into  a  very  worthy  metropolis  of 
the  great  German  Empire.  In  those  days  it  struck  me  as 
rather  ugly;  the  building  material  was  chiefly  a  cheap 
brick  covered  with  a  grey  stucco  and  the  stucco,  after  a 


i86i]  Berlin  121 

series  of  years,  had  the  habit  of  breaking  off  in  flakes, 
giving  to  the  houses  a  very  weather-beaten  appearance. 
This  method  of  building  was  utilised  not  only  for  the  less 
costly  houses  but  for  certain  of  the  palaces.  I  remember 
getting  the  impression  in  looking  at  one  of  the  Schlosser 
that  it  must  have  been  peppered  by  successive  bombard 
ments  of  grape-shot.  There  were  some  fine  streets,  if 
by  fine  would  be  interpreted  a  thoroughfare  that  was 
regular  and  strait  and  fairly  wide,  but  there  was  a  grey 
monotony  about  the  blocks  which  was  to  my  eye  very 
tedious.  An  exception  was  made  in  the  case  of  the  great 
Unter  den  Linden  which  with  its  four  rows  of  beautifully 
grown  linden  trees  struck  me  as  the  finest  city  thorough 
fare,  possibly  excepting  the  avenue  of  the  Champs-Ely- 
sees,  that  I  had  ever  known.  The  general  effect  of  Berlin, 
however,  was  grey,  while  that  of  Paris  was  a  clear  yellow 
brown,  making  a  much  more  cheerful  picture.  The 
great  architectural  feature  of  the  Unter  den  Linden  in 
those  days  (some  magnificent  monuments  have  been 
added  since)  was  the  group  by  Reusch  of  which  the  centre 
was  the  equestrian  figure  of  Frederick  the  Great. 

The  galleries  gave  me  many  hours  of  enjoyment.  The 
collections  did  not  differ  so  much  as  I  had  expected  to  be 
the  case  from  those  in  the  Louvre.  The  latter,  of  course, 
contained  a  very  much  larger  proportion  of  French  pro 
ductions,  but  the  Berlin  gallery  had  a  very  fair  represen 
tation  of  all  the  national  schools  of  art  of  Europe.  Apart 
from  the  galleries,  my  leisure  time  was  naturally  given 
largely  to  walking.  Brandenburg  must  to-day  be  a 
paradise  for  the  wheelmen.  I  remember  being  impressed 
with  the  absolute  table  level  of  the  country  and  with  the 
long  even  highways  stretching  out  in  every  direction  from 
the  city  across  seemingly  endless  plains,  highways  that 
were  marked  by  lines  of  poplars.  It  was  difficult  to 
understand  why  this  particular  tree  should  be  selected 


122  Berlin  [1861 

for  the  roadside.  It  was  dignified  but  entirely  ineffect 
ive  as  far  as  shade  was  concerned.  I  was  told  afterwards 
that  these  trees  in  the  district  of  which  Berlin  was  the 
centre,  had  been  planted  by  the  father  of  Frederick  the 
Great.  He  preferred  them  because  they  reminded  him  of 
the  tall  grenadiers  who  were  his  special  hobby.  In  trudg 
ing  along  the  dusty  road  in  the  June  sunshine,  we  had 
occasion  to  wish,  often  enough,  that  the  fancies  of  the 
first  king  of  Prussia  had  not  given  him  the  grenadier  as  the 
idea  of  beauty. 

Remembering  that  Berlin  was  (as  is  the  case  with  nearly 
all  the  world's  capitals)  placed  on  a  river,  I  had  looked 
forward  to  some  aquatic  amusements.  The  Spree  was, 
however,  at  least  in  those  days,  not  tempting.  It  seemed 
to  find  great  trouble  in  making  its  way  at  all  across  the 
Brandenburg  plain,  and  in  certain  stages  of  the  wind,  it 
was  often  doubtful  which  way  the  river  was  flowing. 
This  doubt  became  the  greater  after  the  stream  had 
entered  the  confines  of  the  city  itself  as  there  the  water 
became  thicker,  blacker,  and  more  sluggish.  In  the 
summer-time  the  water  was  dirty  to  an  extent  which  was 
certainly  uncomfortable  for  the  great  city  and  which 
must,  I  imagine,  have  been  decidedly  unhygienic.  In 
connection  with  the  perfect  flatness  of  the  plain  on  which 
the  city  stood,  there  had  been  difficulty  in  getting 
any  outflow  for  the  sewerage.  I  remember  in  Friedrich 
Strasse,  the  curious  effect  produced  by  the  long  line  of 
gutter  which  beginning  at  one  end  with  a  few  inches  of 
depth,  reached  a  mile  farther  on  a  depth  of  five  or  six  feet, 
which  for  an  open  gutter,  seemed  to  me  rather  perilous. 
The  Berliners  were  used,  however,  to  the  peril,  and  I  did 
not  hear  of  any  accidents  from  gutter  drowning.  All  this, 
I  am  told,  has  since  been  changed.  The  Spree  is  no 
longer  permitted  to  absorb  any  serious  proportion  of  the 
city's  dirt,  and  has,  I  believe,  had  the  swiftness  of  its 


1861]  Berlin  123 

current  furthered  by  pumping  machines,  while  the  gutters 
are  now  safely  covered.  I  imagine,  in  fact,  that  what- 
even  can  be  done  by  a  wisely  ordered  government  to  make 
Berlin  a  comfortable  abiding-place,  has  been  done.  I 
wish  that  our  New  York  aldermen  might  have  taken  some 
training  in  the  present  Berlin  municipal  arrangements  and 
might  have  intelligence  enough  and  honesty  enough  to 
learn  from  the  Germans. x 

On  Sundays,  when  the  labours  of  the  school  and  the 
University  were  over  and  when  the  weather  permitted, 
we  made  excursions  into  the  country,  taking  in  succession 
each  of  a  series  of  suburbs.  While  the  country  itself  was 
not  really  picturesque,  the  green  of  the  fields  and  of  the 
trees  gave  an  agreeable  contrast  to  the  grey  and  white 
effect  of  the  city  streets.  The  suburbs  were  also  planned 
with  reference  to  just  such  tramps.  There  was  always 
at  convenient  intervals  a  well-ordered  beer-house,  placed 
in  as  rural  a  surrounding  as  could  be  secured.  If  there 
were  no  groves  of  trees  within  reach,  the  fences  and  tables 
could,  at  least,  be  painted  green  in  order  to  give  a  country 
effect  and  the  beer  was  always  good.  As  a  beginner  in 
student  experiences,  my  beer  drinking  was  naturally 
modest.  I  think  I  very  rarely  went  beyond  the  single 
schoppen,  the  cost  of  which  was  two  and  a  half  cents. 
The  other  students,  young  and  old,  had  much  larger 
capacities  and  old  Lindermann  himself  could  drink  as 
long  as  the  time  lasted  and  any  silbergroschen  were  in  his 
pocket.  It  was  the  routine  at  the  end  of  such  trip  to 
divide  up  the  expenses  evenly  per  head  and  I  never  quite 
got  over  the  feeling  of  injustice  in  being  called  upon  to  pay 

1  This  remark  can  be  made  with  still  more  conclusiveness  in  the  year 
1913.  The  reports  that  have  been  given  to  us  not  only  by  German  visitors, 
but  by  skilled  American  investigators,  show  that  the  system  of  municipal 
government  has  reached  a  higher  perfection  in  Germany  (under  the  simple 
test  of  the  securing  of  the  largest  amount  of  returns  for  the  citizens  from  the 
moneys  spent  by  them)  than  anywhere  in  the  world. 


124  The  American  Minister  [1861 

my  fifth  or  sixth  part  of  all  the  beer  drunk  by  the  stalwart 
Germans.  The  advantage  for  me  came,  of  course,  in  the 
freedom  of  the  talk  during  the  walk  and  at  our  modest 
lunch  tables.  Restricted  as  I  was  as  to  the  use  of  my 
eyes,  I  did  succeed  in  taking  in  through  my  ears,  with 
fair  rapidity,  the  German  vernacular  and  before  the 
spring  was  over,  I  felt  myself  fairly  at  home  in  the 
language. 

I  presented  in  due  course  a  letter  of  introduction  that 
came  to  me  from  New  York  to  the  American  Minister, 
Mr.  Wright.  Wright  was  a  Democrat  and  had  served  one 
term  if  not  two,  as  Governor  of  Indiana.  He  must  have 
shown  ability  as  a  political  leader  and  have  convinced 
President  Buchanan's  administration  of  the  value  of  his 
influence,  or  he  would  hardly  have  secured  so  important  a 
mission  as  that  to  Berlin.  Whatever  claims  he  had  for  the 
post  must  have  been  based  upon  political  influence  at 
home;  they  could  hardly  be  pressed  on  the  score  of  any 
special  qualifications,  either  diplomatic  or  social,  for  such 
a  post  as  that  of  Minister  to  a  formal  court  like  that  of 
Berlin.  Governor  Wright  was,  I  believe,  by  occupation 
a  lawyer;  his  appearance,  however,  was  that  of  a  farmer 
and  rather  a  rough-cut  specimen  at  that.  His  English 
was  forcible  rather  than  graceful  or  accurate,  and  of 
French  and  German  he  had  not-  the  slightest  knowledge. 
He  was  probably  familiar  with  the  history  of  his  own 
country  and  doubtless  had  a  close  knowledge  of  the 
political  details  of  the  State  of  Indiana.  It  is  my  memory, 
however,  that  his  impressions  of  Germany,  of  the  relations 
of  Prussia  to  the  Confederation,  of  the  present  conditions 
or  the  past  history  of  Europe,  were  of  the  vaguest.  He 
had  a  certain  native  shrewdness  which  came  out  in  his 
conversation  (and  his  conversation  was  altogether  too 
outspoken  to  be  diplomatic),  and  I  was  told  that  his  guesses 
at  the  characters  of  the  officials  and  the  other  diplomats 


The  American  Minister  125 

with  whom  he  came  in  contact  (guesses  which  had  to  be 
based  almost  entirely  on  personal  appearance)  were  often 
very  close  to  the  truth.  His  communication,  however, 
with  the  diplomatic  world  or  with  the  social  circles  in 
which  as  a  Minister  of  a  great  nation  he  properly  belonged, 
had  to  be  made  entirely  by  the  aid  of  an  interpreter.  He 
was  a  widower  and  had  no  member  of  his  own  family  to 
help  smooth  away  the  barriers  or  difficulties.  He  was 
entirely  at  the  mercy,  as  far  as  this  matter  of  communi 
cation  or  expression  was  concerned,  of  his  Secretary  of 
Legation,  a  clever  Virginian  named  Hudson. 

If  in  connection  with  these  limitations,  Governor 
Wright  was  not  very  successful  as  a  diplomat,  he  took  a 
large-hearted  view  of  his  responsibilities  as  a  representative 
of  the  United  States.  He  seemed  to  feel  as  if  it  rested  upon 
him  to  keep  watch  of  the  young  Americans  who  were 
within  his  reach  in  Berlin  and  to  see  that  they  kept  out 
of  mischief.  The  reading-room  of  his  Minister's  quarters 
(quarters  which  also  served  him  for  a  private  residence) 
was  open  to  any  American  sojourners,  irrespective  of  a 
formal  introduction.  The  Minister  interested  himself, 
moreover,  in  securing  a  personal  acquaintance  with  each 
visitor.  He  informed  himself  as  to  the  purpose  of  the 
visitor's  stay  as  a  student  or  as  a  traveller,  and,  parti 
cularly  with  the  younger  fellows,  he  insisted  upon  being 
told  how  thoroughly  they  were  carrying  out  what  their 
parents  expected  them  to  be  doing. 

The  Governor  was  a  good  Methodist  and  he  laid  parti 
cular  emphasis  on  the  importance  of  seeing  present  in  the 
American  Chapel  on  Sunday  all  of  those  who  had  found  it 
convenient  to  visit  his  reading-room  other  days  in  the 
week.  The  chapel  services  were  at  that  time  being  cared 
for  by  a  Methodist.  I  do  not  remember  on  what  founda 
tion  or  resources  the  chapel  was  supported.  The  col 
lection  was,  however,  emphasised  as  very  important  if  the 


126  The  American  Minister 

work  of  the  chapel  was  to  be  carried  on  and  I  can  recall 
the  clink  of  the  silver  thaler  that  the  Governor  was 
accustomed  to  put  in  the  plate,  which  as  a  matter  of 
deference  was  always  passed  to  him  first  in  order.  Cer 
tain  of  the  students  who  made  pretensions  to  being  mem 
bers  of  society,  preferred  the  English  Chapel  which  was  a 
comparatively  formal  institution  attached  to  the  British 
Embassy  and  in  which  the  services  were,  of  course,  those 
of  the  Church  of  England.  Upon  such  delinquent  Ameri 
cans,  Wright  looked  with  an  eye  of  criticism,  but  he  was 
willing  to  accept  their  word  that  they  had  been  to  church 
somewhere.  If  the  visitor  to  the  reading-room  admitted 
that  the  church  service  had  no  interest  for  him,  there  was, 
if  not  a  request,  an  implication  that  his  presence  was  no 
longer  welcome  at  the  ministry.  I  heard  from  time  to 
time  of  kind  things  that  were  done  quietly  by  our  Minister 
for  students  or  travellers  whose  funds  had  given  out. 
American  ministers  and  American  consuls  must  always 
have  a  good  deal  of  pressure  from  impecunious  fellow- 
countrymen,  and  it  is  doubtless  often  difficult  enough  to 
distinguish  between  the  unfortunate,  those  who  are 
accidentally  hampered,  and  the  dead-beats.  Wright's 
strong  feeling  of  loyalty  and  acceptance  of  his  responsi 
bilities  as  representing  the  American  Government  probably 
brought  upon  him  a  large  proportion  of  the  last-named 
class,  but  he  had 'not  a  little  native  shrewdness  as  might 
in  any  case  have  been  expected  from  a  successful  politi 
cal  leader,  and  when  he  was  being  talked  to  in  his  own 
language,  I  judge  that  it  was  not  so  easy  to  get  the  better 
of  the  old  gentleman. 

One  of  the  amusements  for  us  youngsters  in  the  recep 
tion-room  was  to  see  the  Governor  preparing  for  a  Court 
levee.  He  would  come  out  of  his  dressing-room,  tugging 
away  at  a  second  or  a  third  pair  of  gloves,  the  remnants 
of  those  first  experimented  with  being  on  the  floor  behind 


i86i]  The  Secretary  of  Legation  127 

him.  It  seemed  difficult  to  secure  gloves  large  enough 
for  his  Indiana  hands  and  his  natural  impatience  of  so 
cial  details  prevented  him  from  mastering  the  ordinary 
methods  of  soothing  a  refractory  kid.  His  smooth 
Secretary,  Hudson,  would  carry  him  off  to  the  carriage, 
still  tugging  at  a  glove  and  swearing  with  a  kind  of 
Methodist  oath  at  the  nuisance  of  conventionalities. 
The  pair  looked  as  much  like  a  bear  and  a  leader  as  any 
thing  else. 

It  was  not  until  much  later  that  the  Governor  could 
come  to  know  all  the  utterances  made  by  Hudson  in  his 
name  concerning  the  issues  of  our  Civil  War.  After  the 
attack  on  Sumter  in  April,  Hudson  gossiped  freely  in 
the  lower  diplomatic  circles  and  with  the  Hebrew  bankers 
in  regard  to  the  establishment  of  the  new  nation  in  the 
West,  of  which  nation  he  expected  to  be  made  the  Min 
ister  or  Ambassador  to  the  Court  of  Berlin.  He  put  into 
print  in  Berlin  while  he  was  still  Secretary  of  Legation,  a 
very  cleverly  written  pamphlet  which  had  for  its  purpose 
the  bolstering  up  of  the  Confederate  cotton  loan  and  the 
undermining  of  the  credit  of  the  United  States.  This 
pamphlet  was  distributed  within  a  day  or  two  after  he  had 
turned  his  office  over  to  his  successor.  I  came  across  a 
copy  and  with  some  estimate  of  its  importance,  I  mailed 
it  to  my  father  with  a  translation  of  its  text.  The  Con 
federation  began  its  financial  operations  in  Europe  by 
sending  cotton  from  the  not  yet  blockaded  ports  to  be 
held  for  its  account  in  certain  European  ports  of  which 
ports  Liverpool  was  the  chief.  The  cotton  was  not  sold 
in  the  States  because  there  was  an  assured  expectation 
that  it  was  certain  to  appreciate  in  value.  The  first  issue 
of  Confederate  bonds,  the  blue-back  loan,  was  based 
upon  cotton  said  to  be  in  the  ownership  of  said  Govern 
ment  either  in  European  ports  or  on  vessels  on  their  way 
to  such  ports  or  at  shipping  points  in  the  Confederacy 


128          The  Confederate  Cotton  Loan          [1861 

ready  for  forwarding.  The  bond  issues  succeeded  each 
other,  however,  with  considerable  rapidity  and  before 
many  months  had  elapsed,  the  amount  outstanding  for 
which  the  cotton  was  supposed  to  serve  as  security,  must 
have  exceeded  many  times  the  market  value  (great  as  this 
value  per  bale  had  become)  not  only  of  all  the  cotton  held 
subject  to  the  orders  of  the  Confederate  Government  but 
of  all  the  cotton  of  any  ownership  whatsoever  that  was 
likely  to  find  its  way  over  to  Europe.  Hudson  set  forth 
in  his  pamphlet,  however,  as  an  assured  fact  that  the 
security  for  the  debt  that  the  Confederacy  was  incurring 
was  "based  on  this  solid  foundation  of  cotton,"  a  founda 
tion  the  market  value  of  which  was  steadily  increasing. 
On  such  a  security,  he  pointed  out  that  it  was  perfectly 
safe  for  European  friends  of  the  Confederacy  and  for 
investors  generally,  to  loan  their  money.  He  contrasted 
this  assured  value  of  the  Confederate  bonds  with  the 
"lack  of  financial  foundation"  for  the  five- twenties  which 
constituted  the  first  issue  of  the  War  loan  of  the  United 
States.  He  contended  (quite  without  foundation  but  it 
was  a  very  plausible  contention)  that  as  these  five-twen 
ties  rested  upon  the  credit  of  the  entire  nation  called  the 
United  States,  and  as,  according  to  the  contention  of  the 
Northerners,  the  nation  still  comprised  the  full  series  of 
thirty-six  States,  if  any  group  of  States  succeeded  in 
breaking  away,  the  "nation"  that  had  issued  these  bonds 
would  no  longer  be  in  existence.  The  new  nation,  com 
prising  possibly  the  States  of  the  North  and  of  the  West, 
or  more  probably,  as  he  argued,  the  New  England  and 
Middle  States  alone,  would  as  a  new  organisation  have 
no  responsibility,  and  would  not  be  likely  to  be  prepared 
to  assume  any  responsibility,  for  an  indebtedness  con 
tracted  by  an  earlier  and  quite  different  political  organi 
sation.  It  was  evident,  therefore,  said  Hudson,  that  if 
the  South  succeeded  in  establishing  its  independence,  the 


The  Confederate  Cotton  Loan          129 

bonds  issued  by  the  Government  of  the  so-called  United 
States  would  be  worthless.  The  value  of  these  bonds  was 
contingent  upon  the  success  of  the  North,  a. success  which 
on  many  grounds  he  had  already  made  clear  was  impossible. 
The  bonds  of  the  South  would  be  paid  by  the  cotton  as 
signed  as  security  whether  the  South  succeeded  or  not,  but 
the  success  of  the  South  was  in  any  case  assured.  These 
arguments  had  considerable  influence  in  Germany  and  in 
France  and  these  and  similar  arguments  had  the  result  of 
procuring  from  England  some  millions  for  bonds,  paid  over 
not  in  money  but  in  munitions  of  war.  The  Erlangers, 
clever  Hebrew  bankers  of  Frankfort,  brought  themselves 
into  international  repute  through  their  skill  in  managing 
the  Confederate  cotton  loan.  They  utilised  as  a  tract 
and  distributed  widely  throughout  Europe  the  Hudson 
monograph  and  other  similar  specious  arguments.- 

My  father  was  so  much  impressed  with  what  I  wrote 
about  the  purpose  and  character  of  the  pamphlet  that  I 
sent  to  him  that  he  took  pains  to  submit  the  substance  of 
it  in  translation  to  the  leading  New  York  journals,  and  the 
publication  brought  out  as  was  to  be  expected  a  full 
measure  of  indignation.  The  Loyal  Publication  Society, 
organised  by  my  father  a  little  later,  had  for  its  special 
purpose  the  publication  of  documents  which  should  make 
clear  to  Americans  and  to  Europeans  the  actual  nature 
of  the  contest,  and  which  should  also  do  the  service  of 
specifying  the  extent  of  the  resources  on  which  the  Na 
tional  Government  could  depend  in  carrying  on  this  con 
test.  My  father's  old-time  friend  and  partner,  David  A. 
Wells,  took  upon  himself  the  task  of  preparing  a  mono 
graph  that,  after  replying  to  the  misstatements  and  argu 
ments  of  Hudson,  should  make  clear  to  European  investors 
the  nature  of  the  security  upon  which  the  United  States 
loans  were  based.  This  pamphlet,  entitled  Our  Burden 
and  our  Strength,  was  translated  into  all  the  more  impor- 

9 


130       "Our  Burden  and  Our  Strength"       [1861 

tant  European  languages  and  was  circulated,  through 
the  United  States  consuls  and  through  bankers,  in  all 
districts  in  which  there  was  any  possibility  of  making  sale 
for  the  five-twenties  or  the  later  seven-thirties.  It  was 
not  long  before,  on  the  Continent  at  least,  the  investors 
came  to  recognise  that  the  North  had  the  better  secur 
ity  to  offer.  The  seven-thirties  and  the  five- twenties  were 
sold  in  large  amounts  throughout  Europe,  the  most  im 
portant  centre  of  distribution  being  Amsterdam;  next 
in  order  came  Frankfort  and  Berlin.  Smaller  quantities 
were  taken  in  Paris,  where  the  feeling  among  the  moneyed 
and  government  classes,  acting  under  the  lead  of  the 
Emperor,  was  largely  pro-Southern.  England,  which  was 
in  a  better  position  to  secure  trustworthy  information  as 
to  the  course  of  the  struggle  and  as  to  the  relative  business 
soundness  of  the  two  cpntestants,  failed  to  take  advantage 
of  its  position.  Large  sums  were  risked  by  English  in 
vestors  in  the  Confederate  securities,  but  the  sales  of 
American  bonds  in  Great  Britain  during  the  entire  four 
years  of  the  war  were  but  inconsiderable.  It  is  satis 
factory  to  remember  that  the  English  judgment  in  this 
case  not  only  proved  at  fault  but  brought  upon  the 
investors  serious  losses,  while  our  shrewder  and  wiser 
friends  in  Holland  and  in  Germany  secured  very  hand 
some  returns  indeed  on  their  investments  in  the  seven- 
thirties  and  the  five-twenties. 

This,  of  course,  is  a  matter  of  later  history  of  which  I 
could  know  but  little  in  Berlin  in  the  spring  months  of 
1 86 1.  I  had  done  my  duty  in  sending  home  the  pamphlet, 
and  in  common  with  other  loyal  Americans  who  were  at 
that  time  in  the  Prussian  capital,  I  was  gathering  up 
a  strong  fund  of  indignation  at  the  misrepresentation  of 
our  country  through  the  good-natured  ignorance  of  the 
Minister  and  the  sharp  but  treasonable  practices  of  his 
clever  secretary.  We  youngsters  had,  however,  natu- 


News  of  War  131 

rally  no  diplomatic  relations  and  no  social  status,  and  we 
were,  therefore,  not  in  a  position  to  contradict  effectively 
the  gossip  that  from  day  to  day  came  to  our  ears,  as  to  the 
breaking  up  of  the  great  American  Republic.  "  Why,  your 
own  Secretary  of  Legation  says  that  it  is  a  foregone  con 
clusion  and  he  tells  us  that  the  Minister  is  willing  to  admit 
the  same. "  Among  those  who  fumed  and  fretted  was  my 
friend  Hinckley,  and  being  then  nearly  of  age  and  practi 
cally  his  own  master,  he  packed  up  his  trunks  and  started 
for  home  to  take  his  share  in  the  fighting.  It  had  been 
difficult  to  convince  ourselves  that  fighting  was  coming,  and, 
in  any  case,  we  thought  that  it  would  be  but  a  matter  of 
a  few  months.  Hinckley  secured  a  commission  as  Cap 
tain  in  the  First  Coloured  Cavalry  Regiment  of  Massa 
chusetts,  the  only  coloured  cavalry  regiment  that  went  out 
from  the  North.  He  did  his  duty  pluckily  enough  during 
the  term  of  service  of  his  regiment,  but  considered  himself 
unfortunate  in  having  had  no  opportunity  in  getting  in 
touch  with  any  of  the  larger  operations  of  the  war. 

Minister  Wright's  religious  interests  were  not  limited 
to  the  American  Chapel  or  even  to  his  own  denomination. 
He  had,  I  found,  given  some  substantial  aid  to  work  that 
was  carried  on  by  certain  itinerant  preachers  who  might 
have  been  classed  as  missionaries  and  who  journeyed  from 
village  to  village  in  districts  where  the  peasants  were  not 
being  well  cared  for  by  the  established  (Lutheran)  Church, 
or  where,  whatever  the  inducements  held  out  by  the 
local  pastor,  the  peasants  had  kept  away  from  the  parish 
church.  I  came  myself  to  know  one  of  these  itinerant 
preachers,  probably  through  meeting  him  at  the  Chapel  or 
in  the  Minister's  reading-room.  I  found  myself  not  a 
little  interested  in  the  description  given  of  his  work  among 
the  farmhouses.  One  Friday  evening,  I  fell  in  with  a 
suggestion  of  my  friend,  that  I  should  accompany  him 
on  his  next  trip,  spending  Saturday  and  Sunday  in  the 


132  The  Rural  Preacher  [1861 

village  where  he  was  to  preach.  We  went  out  Saturday 
morning  by  a  return  market  train,  travelling  fourth  class. 
Fourth-class  trains  on  the  German  railroad  provide 
"standing  room  only,"  that  is  to  say  there  were  no 
seats.  Seats  would  in  fact  be  very  much  in  the  way  of 
the  fruit  baskets  and  crates  of  the  market  women.  We 
journeyed,  if  I  remember  rightly,  about  two  hours  from 
the  city  and  found  ourselves  at  the  end  of  the  trip  in  a 
Brandenburg  village  of  a  thoroughly  primitive  type.  I 
should  have  mentioned  that  after  leaving  the  train,  we 
had  a  drive  of  about  an  hour  in  a  farm-waggon.  The 
village  comprised  only  a  dozen  or  two  houses,  nestled 
about  a  little  market-place.  I  remember  being  struck 
then,  as  I  was  later,  when  I  had  had  some  pedestrian 
experience  in  Prussian  country,  by  the  fact  that  the  North 
German  farmers*  homes  were  better  arranged  as  far  as 
social  intercourse  and  the  organisation  of  the  villages  were 
concerned  than  were  the  farms  of  New  England.  The 
houses,  instead  of  being  placed  in  the  centre  of  their 
respective  farms,  and  thus  separated  from  each  other  by 
the  width  of  the  farm  land,  were  grouped  together  on  the 
high  road  or  at  some  intersection  of  roads  connecting 
with  their  farms  by  a  narrow  strip.  Occasionally  there 
was  no  direct  connection  between  the  farmhouse  and 
the  farm.  The  farmer  appeared  to  consider  the  advan 
tage  of  living  in  touch  with  his  neighbours  to  offset  the 
inconvenience  of  a  little  longer  tramp  to  his  barns  and  to 
his  fields.  I  have  the  impression,  however,  that  pains 
had  been  taken  in  dividing  or  apportioning  the  farms  so  to 
shape  the  home  fields  that  the  narrow  points  of  these  fields 
came  together  at  the  village  centre.  I  spent  the  after 
noon  with  my  preaching  friend  tramping  over  the  fields 
in  the  outer  circuit  and  visiting  the  cottages  in  the  village. 
These  visits  indicated  that  the  preacher  was  in  close  per 
sonal  touch  with  the  villagers,  although  his  visits  to  them 


i86i]  The  Rural  Preacher  133 

were,  as  he  told  me,  separated  by  considerable  inter 
vals.  My  German  was  still  imperfect  and  I  found  not 
a  little  difficulty  in  taking  in  the  village  patois.  There 
was  no  real  dialect  but  a  certain  broadening  of  the  vowels 
and  roughening  of  the  consonants  which  prevented  the 
utterance  being  clear  to  an  unaccustomed  ear.  Saturday 
evening  we  spent  in  the  beer-house  but  it  was  a  very 
temperate  and  well-ordered  assembly  that  was  there 
gathered.  In  later  years,  when  I  had  occasion  from  time 
to  time  to  visit  the  ale-house  of  an  English  village  on 
a  Saturday  night,  I  made  a  contrast  that  was  by  no  means 
favourable  either  to  the  temperance  or  to  the  good 
manners  of  the  peasant  of  England.  It  remains  my 
impression  that  the  class  of  man  that  works  in  the  furrows 
represents  for  Germany  and  for  France  a  higher  grade  of 
intelligence  and  of  refinement  of  nature  than  one  finds  in 
the  furrows  of  Britain,  or  at  least  of  South  Britain.  The 
talk  in  the  beer-house  that  Saturday  evening  turned 
largely  upon  village  interests,  but  there  was  more  or  less 
questioning  of  the  Pfarrer  as  to  the  news  of  the  great  city, 
and  later,  when  my  friend  had  introduced  me  to  the  circle 
as  coming  from  the  distant  land  of  America,  there  were 
not  a  few  conundrums  to  which  I  was  expected  to  find 
replies  concerning  the  conditions  of  labour,  the  rates  of 
wages,  the  comforts  of  living  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic,  etc.  I  am  afraid  that  my  knowledge  of  indus 
trial  conditions  in  the  States  was  altogether  too  hazy  and 
imperfect  to  be  of  any  material  service  to  these  good 
villagers.  On  Sunday  we  had  a  Bible  Class  in  the  early 
morning  and  then  preaching;  in  the  afternoon  village 
sports  (I  remember  bowls  and  something  like  quoits), 
and  in  the  evening  preaching  again.  There  was  no  chapel 
(the  parish  church  where  the  regular  Lutheran  service 
was  being  held  was  some  miles  distant)  and  our  services 
were  conducted  in  a  loft  over  the  village  shop.  For  the 


134  The  Rural  Preacher  [1861 

evening  service  the  light  was  given  by  tallow  candles.  I 
tried  to  ascertain,  in  following  as  far  as  I  was  able  the 
preaching  of  my  friend,  what  his  own  denominational 
connection  might  be.  I  think  that  he  classed  himself 
with  the  Reformirte  Kirche,  in  which  case  he  was  a  Calvin- 
ist.  The  preaching  was  very  simple,  straightforward,  and, 
I  should  judge,  effective.  I  know  that  the  little  loft  was 
so  far  filled  that  the  air  became  very  "solid."  My 
thoughts  went  back  to  the  account  of  a  somewhat  similar 
preaching  by  St.  Paul  when  one  youth  grown  heavy  with 
sleep  (was  his  name  Eutychus?)  fell  out  of  the  window. 
I  kept  as  near  to  the  window  as  I  could  for  the  sake  of  the 
fresh  air  but  held  on  bravely  to  a  side  post. 

I  lodged  with  one  of  the  elders  of  the  congregation,  a 
shrivelled  up  little  farmer  whose  questions  concerning 
American  conditions  ha<J  been  among  the  most  intelligent 
of  those  put  to  me.  The  fare  was  black  bread,  cheese, 
and  beer.  The  payment  for  two  nights  and  a  considerable 
proportion  of  two  days  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  ten 
groschen,  or  twenty-five  cents.  The  welcome  given  to  the 
stranger  who  came  as  a  friend  of  the  Pfarrer  was  most 
cordial  and  there  remains  to  me  an  impression  of  a  very 
wholesome  and  loyal  home  life  for  these  villagers  and  of 
a  simple  faith  that  evidently  stood  them  in  good  stead. 
I  was  glad  to  have  had  the  experience. 

On  the  Fourth  of  July,  1861,  the  Americans  in  Berlin 
arranged  for  a  commemoration  dinner  which  was  to  be 
something  more  of  a  function  than  usual.  We  had  with 
us  for  the  occasion  two  United  States  Ministers,  the  out 
going  incumbent,  Governor  Wright  of  Indiana,  and  the 
newly  appointed  representative,  Mr.  Judd  of  Illinois. 
With  the  Ministers  we  had,  of  course,  the  two  secretaries. 
The  Virginian  Hudson  has  already  been  referred  to.  We 
were  rather  surprised  that  he  should  have  had  the  "face" 
to  come  to  this  dinner  of  American  loyalists,  for  his  own 


i86i]  The  Fourth  of  July  Dinner  135 

disloyalty  to  the  Government  whose  paid  representative 
he  was,  was  by  this  time  a  matter  of  general  repute  with 
every  one,  excepting  possibly  Governor  Wright.  Hudson 
brazened  the  matter  out,  however,  gracefully  enough.  He 
was  a  good-looking  fellow  with  a  gift  of  fluency  in  German 
and  in  French  as  well  as  in  English.  He  certainly  helped  to 
make  the  dinner  a  success,  although  in  order  to  do  this  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  say  not  a  few  things  that  he  did 
not  believe,  but  he  said  them  very  prettily.  Mr.  Judd 
from  Illinois,  who  was  for  the  coming  four  years  to  stand 
as  the  representative  of  the  United  States  to  Germany, 
possessed,  like  his  predecessor,  but  very  few  qualifications 
as  a  diplomat.  Like  Governor  Wright,  he  knew  no  lan 
guage  but  his  own,  although  it  is  fair  to  say  that  his  com 
mand  of  English  was  somewhat  more  effective  and  more 
accurate  than  that  of  the  gentleman  from  Indiana.  He 
was  a  lawyer  and  had,  I  believe,  been  Chairman  of  the 
State  Republican  Committee.  He  had  become  known  to 
Lincoln  in  connection  with  his  services  in  organising  the 
loyal  opinion  of  Illinois.  The  fact  that  he  had  no  know 
ledge  of  German  was  not  considered  a  serious  disqualifi 
cation.  To  remedy  any  difficulties  on  this  score,  he  had 
had  assigned  to  him  as  Secretary  of  Legation  a  clever 
German- American  named  Kreissmann.  Kreissmann  had, 
I  think,  been  a  refugee  of  1848;  in  any  case  he  belonged  in 
his  boyhood  years  to  the  revolutionary  group  of  Germans. 
I  do  not  know  how  far  his  experiences  with  the  circles  of 
men  who  had  been  "agin  the  government"  may  have 
stood  in  the  way  of  his  official  relations  with  the  Court  of 
Berlin.  If  he  had  come  as  Minister  they  might  have 
decided  that  he  was  persona  non  grata.  I  judge,  however, 
that  a  criticism  of  this  kind  does  not  lie  against  a  Secretary 
of  Legation.  Kreissmann  knew  his  Germany  and  he  knew 
the  rights  of  German-born  American  citizens.  I  was 
told  that  a  very  important  part  of  the  work  of  these  four 


136  The  Fourth  of  July  Dinner 

years  of  the  Ministry  was  that  of  maintaining  the  rights 
of  Americans  who  happened  to  have  been  born  in  Ger 
many,  to  be  freed  from  the  requirement  of  German  mili 
tary  service,  and  to  be  protected,  in  the  case  of  visits  later 
to  Germany,  from  any  penalties  on  the  score  of  having 
avoided  such  service.  I  believe,  however,  that  the  fuller 
recognition  of  this  claim  on  the  part  of  American  students 
who  had  been  born  in  Germany  was  not  given  until  some 
twenty  years  later  when  Minister  Bancroft  Davis  nego 
tiated  a  new  treaty  to  cover  the  point. 

These  matters  did  not,  however,  come  up  for  consider 
ation  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  1861.  Our  utterances  at  this 
dinner,  both  in  the  more  formal  speeches  and  in  the  con 
versation,  had  to  do  with  the  grave  condition  of  affairs 
at  home  and  the  prospect  of  our  being  able  to  organise 
the  strength  of  the  North  rapidly  enough  to  withstand 
the  military  force  of  the  'South,  which  was,  at  the  outset 
of  the  war,  in  so  much  better  a  state  of  preparation.  In 
spite  of  the  anxieties,  anxieties  which  were  perhaps  more 
keenly  felt  by  those  who  had  just  come  from  the  States 
than  by  those  of  us  who  had  been  abroad  for  a  year  or  more 
and  who  did  not  as  fully  realise  the  extent  of  the  difficulties, 
the  dinner  was  a  cheery  one,  much  cheerier  than  would 
have  been  the  case  if  we  had  known  that  that  same  July 
was  to  witness  the  sorrowful  defeat  at  Bull  Run.  Unfor 
tunately  or  fortunately  there  were  no  cablegrams  in  those 
days  and  the  news  of  the  defeat  did  not  reach  us  until 
weeks  later.  The  dinner  was,  after  the  German  fashion, 
long  drawn  out.  I  have  some  impression  of  referring  in 
my  home  letter  to  a  series  of  seventeen  courses.  Each 
of  the  Ministers  and  each  of  the  secretaries  had  to  speak, 
and  I  admired  the  skill  with  which  the  clever  Virginian, 
Hudson,  steered  his  way  between  the  pitfalls  that  sur 
rounded  his  position  and  managed,  while  keeping  within 
the  conventionalities  of  loyal  expression,  to  make  clear 


Friends  in  Berlin  137 

his  own  opinion  that  the  Union  was  at  an  end.  A  group 
of  us  were  going  home  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning, 
and  as  we  came  across  the  open  square  at  the  head  of  the 
Unter  den  Linden,  one  of  the  group  looked  up  and  saw 
what  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  comet  with  two  tails.  The 
dinner  had  been  so  long  and  the  night  hours  were  so  far 
advanced  that  it  seemed  to  him  wiser  to  say  nothing  of  his 
discovery.  Each  one  of  the  group  took  a  shy  glance  into 
the  sky  and  became  conscious  for  himself  of  the  existence 
of  that  comet  with  two  tails  and  each  one  kept  his  great 
astronomical  discovery  to  himself.  It  was  in  taking  up 
our  paper  the  next  morning  (at  rather  a  later  hour  than 
usual)  that  we  realised  that  there  really  had  been  a  comet 
with  two  tails  and  that  we  might  have  enjoyed  all  the 
prestige  belonging  to  an  original  observation. 

I  made  in  Berlin  but  few  social  acquaintances.  The 
men  whom  I  came  to  know  were  almost  entirely  in  the 
University  group  among  the  students  and  certain  of  the 
younger  instructors.  Now  and  then  I  had  the  oppor 
tunity  of  meeting  in  my  host's  smoking-room  certain  older 
visitors  of  the  typical  bourgeois  type,  the  type  so  cleverly 
presented  some  years  later  in  the  Familie  Buchholz. 
Americans  I  was,  of  course,  meeting  from  time  to  time  in 
the  Minister's  reading-room.  It  was  impossible  in  Berlin 
to  carry  out  my  Paris  policy  of  avoiding  my  fellow- 
countrymen.  I  was  making  fair  progress  in  the  German 
language  and  did  not  dread  hearing  words  of  English. 
All  such  considerations,  moreover,  were  brushed  to  one 
side  in  the  eagerness,  during  these  anxious  first  months  of 
the  war,  to  get  news  from  home  and  to  confer  with  others 
as  to  the  probable  meaning  of  the  news. 


VIII 
A  Tramp  to  Gottingfen 

I  HAD  prolonged  my  stay  in  Berlin  in  order  to  be  present 
at  the  Fourth  of  July  ministerial  dinner.  The  good 
oculist  von  Graefe  had  been  making  satisfactory 
progress  with  my  treatment,  and  he  finally  reported  that 
if  I  would  devote  two  or  three  months  to  exercise  in  the 
open,  my  eyes  would  be  again  in  condition  to  render  ser 
vice,  although  but  restricted  service.  Von  Graefe  was 
good  enough  to  mark  out  for  me,  with  the  experience  of  an 
old-time  student,  a  course  of  tramps  for  the  summer  which 
in  his  judgment  I  should  find  interesting  and  which  would 
secure  the  open-air  environment  required  to  complete  his 
treatment.  My  father  had  turned  down  my  application 
for  permission  to  return  to  the  States,  on  the  ground  that 
I  should  not  for  a  year  at  least  -be  old  enough  for  service 
in  the  army  and  that  the  war  would  certainly  be  over 
before  my  eighteenth  birthday  had  arrived. 

I  had  an  invitation  from  my  father's  old  friend  Bayard 
Taylor  to  meet  him  and  his  wife  later  in  the  season  at  the 
home  of  her  father  in  Gotha.  I  shipped  my  trunk  across 
country  to  Gotha,  and  I  put  into  a  knapsack  the  belong 
ings  required  for  the  next  few  weeks.  I  was,  unfor 
tunately,  without  any  companion,  as  I  had  not  been  able 
to  get  hold  of  anybody  in  whom  I  was  interested  whose 
plans  for  the  summer  could  be  made  to  fit  in  with  my  own. 

138 


Dresden  139 

I  found  myself,  however,  during  the  different  stages  of  the 
trip  less  lonely  than  I  had  anticipated.  I  was  able  from 
week  to  week  to  come  into  relations  with  temporary  fellow- 
travellers  whose  way  led  in  the  same  direction  as  my  own, 
and  I  found  the  variety  of  companionship  on  the  whole 
interesting.  I  gave  two  or  three  days  to  Dresden,  devot 
ing  the  time  almost  exclusively  to  the  galleries.  Limited 
as  my  time  was,  I  found  it  difficult  to  keep  away  from 
the  special  room  where  dwells  the  great  Madonna.  My 
knowledge  of  art  was,  of  course,  but  slight,  but  my  tastes 
and  interests  had  been  guided  somewhat  in  the  com 
panionship  of  older  and  better  trained  associates  in  the 
galleries  of  the  Louvre  and  of  the  Luxembourg.  I  knew, 
therefore,  something  about  the  schools  of  painting,  and 
while  in  Berlin  I  had  given  some  time  to  the  study  of 
the  development  of  European  art  taken  chronologically. 
This  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  the  order  in  which  had 
been  arranged  the  paintings  in  the  gallery  of  Berlin.  I 
was  able,  therefore,  to  realise  to  some  extent  the  distinc 
tive  value  of  the  art  of  the  world  that  was  represented  in 
Dresden,  but,  as  said,  a  large  portion  of  the  time  was 
absorbed  in  the  worship  of  the  Sistine  Madonna.  There 
was,  of  course,  also  a  visit  to  the  Grune  Gewolbe,  where  I 
gazed  with  but  a  languid  interest  on  the  great  collection 
of  jewels  and  curios.  I  found  a  keener  pleasure  in  sitting 
with  my  travelling  acquaintances  on  the  Bruhlische 
Terrace,  which  overlooks  the  Elbe  at  the  most  picturesque 
point,  and  where  one  has,  in  addition  to  the  immediate 
survey  of  the  river,  a  beautiful  distant  view  of  the  Saxon 
Switzerland.  My  impression  of  the  river  and  of  the 
mountains  was  mixed  up  with  a  kind  of  moving  procession 
of  faces.  The  terrace  is  wide  and  is  so  arranged  that  there 
is  a  liberal  width  of  space  for  promenaders  in  front  of 
the  chairs  and  tables  of  the  cafe.  At  the  proper  season  of 
the  year  (and  I  must  have  struck  this  season)  a  goodly 


140  Dresden 

proportion  of  the  society  of  Europe  seemed  to  have  been 
swept  into  an  eddy  of  which  the  Dresden  Terrace  was 
the  centre.  My  companion  and  myself  amused  ourselves 
in  guessing  as  we  saw  faces  approaching  from  the  distance 
to  what  nationality  or  race  type  the  face  might  belong. 
Usually,  as  the  promenaders  passed,  a  word  or  two  could 
be  caught  which  gave  us  the  necessary  clue.  I  remember 
the  contrast  between  the  blond  Saxons  and  dark-haired 
Poles,  the  red  Belgians,  the  piquant  Italians,  the  sturdy 
and  wholesome-faced  English  girls  (at  that  time  the 
English  colony  in  Dresden  was  large),  and  the  occasional 
Frenchwomen,  who  as  far  as  one  could  judge  from  the 
scraps  of  conversation  were  the  most  vivacious  of 
all.  I  do  not  know  whether  the  Dresden  Terrace  is  as 
much  of  a  social  centre  to-day  as  it  was  forty  years 
back,  but  for  the  moment  I  seemed  to  be  at  the  centre 
of  Europe. 

I  left  Dresden  by  a  steam-boat  which  brought  me  some 
twenty-five  miles  above  the  city,  to  the  point  from  which 
the  tramp  through  Saxon  Switzerland  is  usually  begun.  I 
had  with  me  at  this  time  a  student  whom  I  had  come  to 
know  slightly  in  Berlin  and  who  was  familiar  with  the 
region  and  I  accepted  his  steering  for  the  next  few  days. 
One  of  the  impressions  that  remained  particularly  in  my 
memory  from  that  tramp  in  Saxony  was  the  effect  of 
the  two  peaks  that  confronted  each  other  across  a 
narrow  curve  of  the  Elbe, — the  Lilienstein  and  the 
Konigstein;  on  the  top  of  the  latter  had  been  built,  I 
do  not  know  how  many  centuries  back,  the  great  for 
tress  which  had  been  planned  to  serve  as  the  last  pro 
tection  of  the  Saxon  monarchy  in  time  of  need.  Into 
this  fortress  had  been  collected  in  the  different  periods  of 
war  and  invasion  the  Court  treasures.  It  is  related  that  in 
one  of  the  earlier  of  the  campaigns  of  Napoleon  in  Ger 
many,  before  he  had  succeeded  in  securing  the  Saxon  Alii- 


1861]  Saxon  Switzerland  141 

ance,  the  attempt  had  been  made  under  his  instructions 
to  force  the  passage  upward  to  the  top  of  the  Konigstein 
for  the  purpose  of  securing  the  royal  treasures.  The  first 
attack  was  repulsed,  but  the  artillery  officer  who  had 
charge  of  the  siege,  if  siege  it  can  be  called,  was  of  the  im 
pression  that  if  he  could  place  his  guns  on  the  Lilienstein 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  he  could  make  the  fortress 
untenable.  The  Lilienstein  was  undefended  but  the  labour 
of  making  a  road  to  the  top  and  of  getting  up  the  field 
artillery  was  in  itself  very  considerable.  The  top  was 
finally  gained  and  the  guns  were  placed  in  position,  and  it 
was  then  found  that  the  distance  from  peak  to  peak  had 
been  miscalculated  and  that  the  missiles  could  not  be 
made  to  reach.  The  Saxon  force  that  was  holding  the 
Konigstein,  with  a  fuller  knowledge  of  the  measurements, 
had  of  course  understood  this  from  the  beginning  and 
were  in  no  dread  of  the  bombardment  from  the  other  side. 
Napoleon's  wrath  and  impatience  were  reported  to  have 
been  very  extreme  and  as  the  result  the  poor  artillery 
officer  lost  his  commission  and  was  told  to  go  back  to 
school  and  study  triangulation.  The  Saxon  treasures 
escaped  for  the  time,  but  were  gathered  in  a  few  years 
later  together  with  the  Saxon  monarchy  itself. 

A  few  miles  from  the  Lilienstein,  the  foot-traveller 
clambering  over  the  wooded  ridge  finds  his  way  into  a  long 
cavern  which  pierces  the  mountainside,  and  after  some 
minutes  of  groping  in  the  dark,  comes  out  with  a  sudden 
turn  to  the  great  window  described  as  the  Kuhstall, 
through  which  he  overlooks  the  river  and  the  stretch  of 
country  down  the  valley  to  Dresden. 

The  cavern  itself  was,  according  to  tradition,  utilised 
during  the  Thirty  Years'  War  for  the  protection  from  the 
troops  of  the  cattle  from  the  farms  of  the  district.  From 
the  river-side  or  window-side  the  face  of  the  mountain  is 
entirely  inaccessible;  while  the  steep  and  twisty  ascent 


142  Prague  [1861 

on  the  rear  could  have  been  defended  by  a  few  energetic 
men  against  a  host  of  assailants. 

With  a  day's  journey  southward,  the  pedestrian  passes 
through  the  higher  plateaus  of  Saxon  Switzerland,  and 
comes  out  upon  the  open  ground  looking  towards  Prague. 
On  crossing  the  river  to  a  little  village  whose  name  I 
have  forgotten,  I  found  myself  in  Bohemia  and  was  called 
upon  to  subject  my  modest  knapsack  to  the  investigation 
of  an  Austrian  customs  officer.  The  day  was  too  far  ad 
vanced  to  make  it  practicable  to  reach  Prague  on  foot 
before  nightfall;  and  no  one  of  the  two  or  three  harsh- 
sounding  Bohemian  names  of  the  villages  on  my  map  gave 
to  my  imagination  promise  of  an  attractive  resting  place. 
I  therefore  took  the  train  from  the  Bohemian  frontier 
and  found  myself  in  conversation  with  a  travelling  work 
man  who  like  myself  desired  to  reach  Prague  that  night 
and  had  left  the  road  for  this  purpose.  He  was  a  cabinet 
maker  and  was  completing,  if  I  remember  rightly,  the 
third  and  last  of  his  Wanderjahre  which  would  entitle 
him  to  secure  a  permanent  post  as  a  finished  workman. 
Through  an  accident  to  the  locomotive,  the  train  was 
delayed  for  an  hour  or  two  so  that  by  the  time  we  rolled 
into  the  station  at  Prague  it  was  past  midnight.  My 
companion  learned  that  I  had  no  knowledge  of  the  city 
and  had  not  even  fixed  upon  any  inn  to  which  I  might  be 
directed.  After  a  little  thought,  he  offered  to  take  me 
with  him  by  means  of  his  ticket  to  the  mechanics'  lodging 
house.  As  a  travelling  workman,  he  was  entitled  to  a 
sojourn  for  a  fixed  period  and  at  some  minimum  cost,  in 
any  one  of  the  series  of  inns  belonging  to  the  working  men's 
associations.  According  to  the  regulations,  as  he  frankly 
explained,  no  outsiders  were  admitted ;  but  he  judged  that 
an  exception  might  be  made  in  the  case  of  an  American 
who  was  certainly  not  at  that  time  an  employer  of  labour. 
I  thankfully  accepted  the  friendly  suggestion  and,  shoulder- 


Prague  143 

ing  our  packs,  we  steered  our  way  as  best  we  could  through 
one  of  the  narrow  Gas  sen  leading  out  of  the  station  street. 
I  noticed  that  in  regard  to  the  lighting  of  the  lamps,  at 
least  in  the  smaller  streets,  the  same  routine  was  followed 
in  Prague  as  in  many  of  the  towns  of  North  Germany. 
At  the  times  in  the  month  when,  according  to  the  calendar, 
it  was  the  duty  of  the  moon  to  be  within  reach,  the  author 
ities  of  the  town  saved  their  lamp-oil.  If  one  of  those 
nights  happened  to  be  cloudy,  the  responsibility  for  the 
darkness  in  the  streets  rested  not  with  the  town  but  with 
Providence.  It  was  on  a  night  of  this  land  that  I  happened 
to  strike  Prague,  and  my  first  impression  of  the  city  con 
sisted  in  stumbling  through  a  narrow,  twisty,  and  ill -paved 
alleyway  which  presented  no  lights  even  from  the  tall 
houses  and  through  which  I  steered  myself  only  by  keeping 
in  touch  with  the  blouse  of  my  guide.  He  walked  slowly, 
counting  the  houses,  and  when  he  had  reached  the  re 
quired  number  he  felt  his  way  to  the  keyhole  and  let  him 
self  in  by  a  pass-key  to  a  passage  that  was  somewhat 
darker  than  the  alley  we  had  left.  The  door  was  shut 
quietly  and  our  shoes  were  removed.  "  It  would  not  do, " 
said  my  companion,  "to  disturb  the  sleep  of  our  fellow- 
travellers.  "  He  then  felt  his  way  up  two  or  three  flights, 
and  opening  a  door  on  the  left,  felt  into  a  corner  where, 
as  he  reported,  there  was  a  vacant  bed.  I  had  of  course 
taken  pains  to  keep  in  touch  with  his  blouse  and  I  was 
able  therefore  to  satisfy  myself  with  my  own  hands  that 
there  was  a  bed  and  that  it  was  empty. 

"I  will  see  you  in  the  morning,"  whispered  my  friend, 
as  he  slipped  noiselessly  out  to  rummage  for  an  empty  bed 
on  his  account.  I  was  sleepy  enough  to  accept  without 
much  criticism  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  couch,  and  as 
far  as  I  can  remember,  this  was  comfortable  enough. 
Having  placed  beneath  the  pillow  the  watch,  purse,  letter 
of  credit,  and  pocket-knife  which  constituted  the  more 


144  A  Workmen's  Inn  [1861 

important  of  my  worldly  possessions,  I  slept  the  sleep  of 
the  just. 

I  was  awakened  in  the  morning  by  a  question  from  the 
bed  next  on  the  right,  but  as  the  question  was  put  in 
Bohemian,  I  did  not  venture  an  answer.  I  found  myself 
in  a  long  narrow  dormitory  containing  thirty  or  forty 
beds,  all  of  which  were  occupied.  There  was  beginning 
to  be  a  little  buzz  of  conversation,  and  as  some  of  this  was 
given  in  German,  I  was  able  to  take  in  certain  words  which 
evidently  referred  to  myself.  The  general  purport  was, 
"  Who  in  thunder  is  that  chap  and  what  is  he  doing  in  our 
house?"  I  remember  thinking  of  the  great  big  bear  with 
the  gruff  voice.  These  bears  were  not  very  big — in  fact 
most  of  them  were  youngsters  like  myself — but  there  were 
a  good  many  of  them,  and  even  with  those  who  spoke 
German,  I  was  not  sure  that,  in  connection  with  dialect 
peculiarities,  I  should  be  able  easily  to  make  myself 
understood.  They  were  inquisitive,  however,  rather  than 
ugly,  and  the  entrance  of  my  friend,  who,  anticipating  my 
perplexities,  had  taken  pains  to  get  up  early,  straightened 
out  my  record  and  secured  for  me  a  really  genial  welcome. 
During  the  time  of  dressing,  which  was  a  public  and  not  a 
very  complete  operation,  and  the  later  half -hour  when  we 
were  sharing  coffee  and  black  bread,  I  was  bombarded 
with  questions  phrased  in  a  variety  of  dialects,  concerning 
the  conditions  of  labour  in  America,  the  rates  of  wages  in 
the  different  trades,  the  cost  of  living,  the  requirements  of 
travelling  for  apprentices,  and  the  still  more  vital  matter, 
the  length  of  the  military  service.  I  only  wished  that  I 
had  had  available  a  larger  amount  of  trustworthy  infor 
mation.  I  was  really  ignorant  as  to  wages,  but  I  could 
tell  them  something  about  the  price  of  bread  and  of  meat 
and  I  was  quite  clear  in  my  mind  as  to  the  very  moder 
ate  requirements  made  by  our  government  for  military 
service.  I  stated  with  truth  that  there  never  had  been 


i86i]  Prague  145 

in  our  country  any  system  of  conscription,  and  with  the 
sublime  confidence  of  youth  I  ventured  the  prophecy  (two 
years  in  advance  of  1863)  that  there  never  would  be  any. 
I  should  be  sorry  to  believe  that  any  of  these  hospitable 
working  men  should  have  had  occasion  later,  in  find 
ing  themselves  in  the  toils  of  the  provost  marshal  of 
New  York,  to  growl  at  the  over-optimism  of  the  Yankee 
student. 

I  found  some  perplexity  when  the  time  came  for  my 
departure  in  arranging  to  pay  for  my  night's  lodging. 
There  appeared  to  be  no  one  authorised  to  receive  money 
from  a  transient  guest.  The  matter  was  finally  arranged, 
at  the  suggestion  of  my  original  companion,  by  a  con 
tribution  to  the  sick-fund  box. 

The  impression  that  remains  most  clearly  in  my  memory 
from  my  inspection  of  Prague  is  the  picture  of  the  Jewish 
quarter.  It  is  my  impression  that  there  is  at  this  time 
no  restriction  upon  the  Jews  in  regard  to  the  selection  of 
their  dwelling  places  in  the  city.  In  1861,  however,  the 
Jewish  quarter  was  still  separated  from  the  Christian  city 
of  the  Germans  and  Bohemians  by  a  boundary  wall,  and 
the  one  or  two  streets  through  which  connection  was 
made  were  barriered  by  guard-houses  and  by  chains.  The 
latter  were  put  up  each  evening,  I  believe  shortly  after 
sundown,  and  unless  with  special  permit  no  egress  was 
permitted  from  the  Jewish  quarter  after  the  chains  were 
up.  The  regulations  appeared  in  fact  to  be  substantially 
in  line  with  those  that  had  been  in  force  in  the  Middle 
Ages. 

In  roaming  about  the  city,  I  was  speedily  attracted  by 
the  picturesque  and  mediaeval  appearance  of  the  houses 
of  the  quarter.  On  closer  inspection,  I  gathered  the 
impression  that  for  dwelling  purposes  these  houses  were 
much  more  picturesque  than  comfortable  or  hygienic. 
The  necessities  of  a  crowded  population  had  caused  the 


146  A  Jewish  Cemetery  [1861 

buildings  to  be  carried  to  a  height  which,  while  moderate 
enough  as  compared  with  a  New  York  sky-scraping  tene 
ment,  was  assuredly  excessive  for  the  width  even  of  the 
larger  streets  of  the  quarter  and  caused  the  narrower 
alleys  to  be  mere  canons  of  darkness.  I  could  trace 
where,  from  half-century  to  half-century,  the  houses  had 
been  added  to,  but  the  additions  were  always  from  the 
roof  up.  There  was  really  little  in  the  quarter  to  interest 
the  sightseer,  other  than  the  general  aspect  of  these  over 
hung  Gassen,  and  the  old  cemetery.  For  the  dwellings  of 
the  dead,  as  for  those  of  the  living,  there  was  no  space 
available  for  additions  except  towards  the  sky.  The 
graves  lay,  therefore,  one  above  the  other  so  that  the 
surface  of  the  cemetery  had  gradually  been  raised  pari 
passu  with  the  roof-lines  of  the  surrounding  dwellings. 
In  approaching  the  cemetery  from  the  street,  the  visitor 
had  a  considerable  flight  of  steps  to  ascend.  It  was  sur 
rounded  on  three  sides  by  a  wall,  the  height  of  which  had 
from  time  to  time  been  increased  in  order  to  keep  pace 
with  the  higher  level  of  the  ground  within.  The  wall 
presented,  therefore,  from  the  street  a  formidable  aspect, 
and  even  from  within  was  quite  unscalable  unless  by 
someone  possessing  the  muscular  power  of  a  Jean  Valjean. 
The  guardian  who  had  charge  of  the  gate  was  away,  but 
a  small  boy  secured  the  necessary  key  and  came  in  with 
me,  partly  as  a  guide  and  partly,  as  I  thought,  with  the  air 
of  preventing  the  heretical  visitor  from  committing  any 
sacrilege  within  the  consecrated  precincts.  There  was 
in  fact  nothing  to  be  guided  to.  The  square  enclosure 
was  bounded  on  the  fourth  side  by  a  row  of  the  tall  houses 
whose  forbidding  aspect  was  heightened  by  the  fact  that 
the  two  or  three  lower  tiers  of  windows  were  securely 
planked  up  as  if  to  keep  out  the  possible  ghosts.  The 
tombstones  were  covered  with  inscriptions  very  closely 
set  together,  but  as  I  had  no  knowledge  of  Hebrew,  I  could 


i86i]  A  Jewish  Cemetery  147 

only  puzzle  vaguely  as  to  the  character  of  the  commemo 
rations  of  the  dead  and  wonder  how  the  records  could  be 
properly  connected  with  the  individuals  whose  dust  lay 
beneath  the  stones.  Certain  of  the  stones,  bearing  dates 
a  century  or  more  old,  had  been  raised  up  as  if  above  later 
interments,  and  fresh  stones  with  comparatively  recent 
dates  had  been  placed  in  beneath.  Some  of  the  tombs 
presented,  therefore,  the  aspect  of  a  complex  structure, 
the  building  of  which  had  gone  on  through  many  years. 

The  small  boy,  who  ought,  of  course,  to  have  remained 
within  reach  to  answer  my  questions,  seemed  to  have 
more  dread  of  the  enclosure  than  was  to  have  been  ex 
pected  on  the  part  of  the  son  of  the  custodian,  or  than 
was  natural  for  a  guide  expecting  a  fee.  After  letting  me 
in,  he  had  remained  close  by  the  gate  as  if  it  were  import 
ant  to  preserve  his  own  line  of  retreat. 

It  grew  dusk  very  suddenly,  as  the  sun  fell  behind  the 
level  of  the  tall  buildings  on  the  west.  I  had  been  examin 
ing  a  little  closely  the  carved  heads  of  certain  cherubs  with 
the  thought  that  they  might  have  been  passed  for  Christ 
ian  cherubs,  when  I  was  aroused  by  the  slam  of  the  closing 
gate.  Whether  my  little  guide  had  grown  frightened  with 
the  increasing  dusk,  or  whether  it  was  contrary  to  some 
ecclesiastical  regulations  to  be  among  the  tombs  after 
sunset,  or  whether  the  little  rascal  had  simply  grown  tired 
of  waiting  and  had  abandoned  his  charge,  I  shall  never 
know.  I  simply  did  know  that  the  massive  gate,  or  rather 
door,  was  closed  and  that  I  was  on  the  wrong  side  of  it.  I 
naturally  hurried  over  to  the  gateway  and  did  what  seemed 
possible  by  rapping  and  by  shouting  to  attract  attention, 
but  without  success.  An  attempt  to  scale  the  wall  at 
the  most  promising  angle  resulted  only  in  a  torn  trouser- 
knee  and  a  bruised  elbow.  I  then  betook  myself  to  the  op 
posite  side  of  the  enclosure  and,  taking  the  houses  in  turn, 
experimented  with  each  of  the  forbidding-looking  closed 


148  A  Ghost  [1861 

doors.  I  did  not  think  it  wise,  at  least  at  the  outset,  to 
hammer  on  the  doors,  because  I  could  not  get  rid  of  the 
feeling  that  I  was  possibly  a  transgressor  in  being  in  the 
place  after  sundown.  At  the  fifteenth  or  sixteenth  house 
I  found  a  door  that  yielded.  Some  rusty  nails  had,  I 
think,  given  way,  and  the  bar  on  the  inside,  which  should 
have  kept  it  closed,  had  fallen.  I  pulled  the  door  open 
quietly  far  enough  to  get  in  with  my  head  and  looking 
through  found  that  I  was  at  one  end  of  a  deep  passage,  the 
other  end  of  which  evidently  opened  out  into  the  street. 
Where  I  stood  was  in  darkness,  but,  the  front  door  being 
open,  I  could  see  dimly  outlined  against  the  sky  the  heads 
of  one  or  two  people  seated  on  the  doorway  step.  I  could 
hear,  through  doors  that  opened  into  the  passageway, 
household  routine  going  on  in  one  or  two  rooms.  It  is 
probable  enough  that  if  I  had  walked  quietly  to  the  near 
est  of  these  rooms  and  had  stated  my  case,  I  should 
have  been  put  into  the  street  without  difficulty  or  ques 
tion.  I  was  not  sure,  however,  that  my  German  would  be 
understood  by  the  Bohemian  Jews,  while  I  also,  as  before 
said,  was  in  doubt  in  regard  to  the  possible  sacrilege.  I 
decided,  therefore,  to  slip  through  the  hall  without  any  at 
tempt  at  conversation  The  door  fortunately  closed  with 
out  any  creaking,  and  with  as  quiet  a  run  as  possible  I 
slipped  by  or  over  the  people  on  the  threshold  and  in  a  few 
seconds  was  down  the  long  flight  of  steps  and  around  the 
first  street  corner.  I  heard  some  shrieks  as  I  passed  the 
doors  opening  on  the  passage,  and  I  think  it  probable  that 
my  visit  has  formed  the  basis  of  a  really  well-authen 
ticated  ghost  story.  There  was  no  pursuit  from  the 
doorway  and,  as  I  came  upon  the  people  from  behind,  and 
the  alley  into  which  I  tumbled  was  comfortably  dark,  I 
judge  I  was  really  not  seen,  at  least  in  anything  more 
than  a  spectral  fashion. 

After  some  doublings  through  a  network  of  alleys,  I 


i86ij  Prague  149 

found  myself  again  on  the  main  street  of  the  Quarter, 
which  led  directly  to  the  barrier-gate.  There  was  no 
difficulty  in  telling  a  straight  story  to  the  Austrian  ser 
geant  of  the  guard,  and  he  was  quite  ready,  as  I  neither 
looked  nor  spoke  like  a  Hebrew,  to  pass  me  over  to  the 
Christian  side  of  the  city. 

I  do  not  remember  much  further  concerning  my 
researches  in  Prague.  In  connection  with  the  necessity 
of  economising  my  eyesight,  I  had  not  been  able  to 
prepare  myself  for  the  city  by  reading  up  the  dramatic 
incidents  in  its  history.  If  I  could  only  at  that  time  have 
known  something  about  the  battle  of  the  White  Moun 
tain  and  the  famous  "throwing  out  of  the  windows"  of 
the  minority  delegates,  I  should  have  looked  at  certain 
places  with  a  closer  and  more  intelligent  interest. 

I  gave  to  the  city  and  its  suburbs  three  or  four  days, 
and  then  again  shouldering  my  knapsack,  started  on  the 
road  for  Carlsbad.  If  I  could  only  have  foreseen  that  five 
years  later  one  of  the  most  dramatic  as  well  as  most 
scientific  of  the  world's  campaigns  was  to  be  fought  out  in 
northern  Bohemia,  I  should  have  been  interested  in  taking 
a  detour  in  order  to  study  the  topography  of  Koniggratz, 
and  to  fix  the  position  of  the  famous  fog-enveloped  village 
of  Chlum.  This  trip  I  have  since  1866  kept  in  view  as 
something  for  the  later  years.  In  Carlsbad,  the  dusty 
pedestrian  with  his  meagre  wardrobe  felt  a  little  out  of 
place.  It  was  the  beginning  of  the  season  and  the  terraces 
and  the  Briinenhallen,  which  had  in  past  centuries  wel 
comed  so  many  of  the  world's  diplomats,  were  beginning 
to  be  filled  up  with  well-dressed  society  from  all  points  of 
the  continent.  I  took  a  hasty  view  of  the  picturesque 
brooks  with  their  wonderfully  coloured  deposits,  and  then 
got  away  to  the  nearest  village  on  the  road  to  Eger,  a 
village  the  accommodations  in  which  were  more  in  accord 
with  my  modest  requirements  and  resources. 


150  Bohemia  [1861 

I  believe  that  I  spent  two  or  three  days  on  the  road  to 
Eger.  I  passed  through  no  other  place  of  historic  import 
ance,  but  I  have  a  memory  of  a  series  of  picturesque 
hillsides  and  of  villages  very  much  like  each  other  and 
most  of  them  furnished  with  unpronounceable  names. 
In  these  villages,  my  German  was  of  no  service.  So 
few  travellers  passed  through  from  the  outer  world  that 
even  the  innkeepers  were  restricted  to  Bohemian.  The 
inns  themselves  were  little  more  than  ale-houses,  with 
bedroom  accommodation  so  limited  that  if  the  traveller 
had  had  the  gift  of  prophecy  his  thoughts  might  have  gone 
forward  to  the  requirements  of  the  Raines  Law.  The 
food  supplies  were  rather  monotonous  in  their  character, 
comprising  little  beyond  sausage,  cheese,  and  black  bread. 
The  round  sausages  and  long  rolls  of  Pumpernickel  were, 
as  a  rule,  stored  in  outhouses  which  were  built  like  ice 
houses,  half  below  the  surface.  This  method  of  storing 
food  rendered  it  easily  available  for  use  as  rations  and 
proved  of  no  little  convenience  five  years  later  to  the 
commissaries  of  the  invading  Prussian  armies.  The 
campaign  narratives  of  1 866  make  reference  to  the  advan 
tage  that  the  advance-columns  possessed  in  being  able  to 
press  forward  without  their  supply-waggons  and  in  the 
lightest  marching  order,  with  the  assurance  of  finding 
food  from  night  to  night  in  these  outdoor  farm  cellars. 
The  farmers  of  modern  Bohemia  must  themselves  that 
autumn  have  had  a  hungry  time. 

I  had  mastered  my  Wallenstein  before  reaching  Eger, 
and  I  knew,  therefore,  what  were  the  proper  historic 
reminiscences  to  recall  at  the  sight  of  the  death-chamber 
in  the  old  castle.  The  blood  stains  on  the  floor  and  wall 
are  as  distinct  and  (after  the  lapse  of  two  centuries)  prob 
ably  about  as  veracious  as  the  marks  of  Luther's  ink- 
bottle  in  the  Wartburg.  I  do  not  recall  anything  further 
in  Eger  which  impressed  my  memory. 


i86i]  The  Black  Forest  151 

The  next  stage  in  my  tramp  was  Coburg.  After  passing 
the  Bohemian  boundary,  the  route,  which  crossed  over  a 
portion  of  the  Black  Forest,  became,  as  the  Germans 
would  say,  more  smiling.  The  trees  were  higher  and  the 
fields  presented  an  aspect  of  greater  fertility.  The 
villages  were  more  attractive  in  their  environment  and 
both  the  inns  and  the  home  dwellings  had  an  air  of  greater 
comfort.  There  was  also  a  satisfaction  in  being  free  to 
present  one's  wants  in  speech  instead  of  through  the,  to 
me,  unaccustomed  and  awkward  vehicle  of  sign  language. 

On  reaching  the  Black  Forest  region,  I  was  able  from 
day  to  day  to  pick  up  a  travelling  companion.  Some 
times  it  was  a  student,  but  more  frequently  a  travelling 
mechanic.  Once  or  twice  I  passed  the  day  with  peasants 
making  their  way  across  country  for  farming  operations, 
and  with  these  I  had  the  interest  of  puzzling  over  a  fresh 
dialect.  One  day  I  passed  in  the  society  of  a  toy-maker 
from  Nuremberg.  I  remember  his  telling  me  that  the 
orders  from  the  United  States  were  by  far  the  most 
important  in  making  continued  business  for  the  Nurem 
berg  workshops.  Since  that  time,  the  American  children 
have  had  occasion  to  make  a  further  contribution  to  the 
prosperity  of  Nuremberg  in  their  large  purchases  of  the 
toy  books  of  Nister. 

On  the  afternoon  of  my  arrival  at  Coburg,  I  had  a  small 
adventure,  some  details  of  which  remain  in  my  memory. 
I  had  decided,  I  do  not  now  recall  why,  to  take  the  train 
for  the  last  stage  of  the  day's  journey.  I  found  that  to 
catch  the  train  at  the  nearest  station,  the  time  being 
limited,  it  would  be  necessary  to  get  to  the  station  by  the 
shortest  line.  The  highroad  made  a  curve,  apparently  to 
reach  some  village  on  the  right,  and  I  therefore  climbed 
over  the  fence  by  which,  according  to  the  routine  in  North 
Germany,  the  railroad  was  enclosed,  and  made  my  way 
along  the  track.  In  a  few  minutes  a  yellow-and-white 


152  An  Arrest  [1861 

official  had  also  climbed  the  fence  and  was  giving  me 
emphatic  commands  from  the  rear.  I  was,  under  the 
circumstances,  quite  deaf  and  trotted  along  as  rapidly  as 
possible  towards  the  station.  On  being  headed  off, 
however,  by  a  second  functionary,  I  had  no  resource  but 
to  surrender  at  discretion.  The  two  men  assembled 
together  and  did  a  large  amount  of  talking  over  my  head. 
They  took  pains  to  point  out  to  me  certain  signboards 
on  which,  under  the  general  caption  of  "  Streng  Verboten, " 
was  printed  the  list  of  penalties  for  the  crime  of  trespassing 
on  the  track  and  for  the  greater  crime  of  resisting  (i.  e., 
failing  to  give  prompt  obedience  to)  the  authority  of  an 
official.  I  looked  as  deaf,  as  foreign,  as  ignorant,  and  as 
innocent  as  possible.  Finally  my  offer  of  a  thaler  (as 
commutation  for  the  official  fine  of  five  thalers)  was 
accepted.  It  was  still  necessary,  however,  that  the 
majesty  of  the  law  should 'be  vindicated.  I  was,  there 
fore,  not  allowed  to  go  on  to  the  station  or  to  strike 
directly  across  to  the  road  but  was  conducted  back  to 
the  point  where  the  crime  had  been  committed,  and  as 
I  there  was  permitted,  in  a  state  of  some  irritation  with 
the  ways  of  officialdom,  to  climb  over  the  fence,  the 
expected  train  passed  by  on  its  way  to  Coburg. 

There  was  no  further  train  northward  for  some  hours. 
I  saw  in  the  middle  distance  a  picturesque  hilltop,  crowned 
with  the  usual  ruin.  My  studies  in  the  natural  history 
of  North  Germany  enabled  me  to  decide  with  substantial 
certainty  that  at  the  base  of  the  hill  I  should  find  the  beer- 
garden.  In  a  few  minutes,  I  was  quenching  my  irritation 
with  a  schoppen  of  the  best  Coburger.  The  garden  was 
nearly  deserted,  but  a  table  not  far  from  my  own  was 
occupied  by  a  family  group  which,  from  the  accent  of 
certain  phrases,  I  judged  to  belong  to  Berlin.  A  rather 
heavy  but  not  unintelligent-looking  papa,  an  equally 
heavy  and  good-natured  mamma,  and  a  pair  of  daugh- 


A  Modest  Adventure  153 

ters  of  perhaps  fifteen  and  sixteen,  whose  faces  gave  the 
impression  that  in  mental  activity  they  had  advanced 
a  stage  beyond  their  parents,  made  up  the  family.  The 
type  is  described  later  in  Die  Familie  Buchholz.  A  discus 
sion  was  going  on  between  mamma  and  papa,  some  words 
of  which  unavoidably  came  to  my  ears.  The  girls  wanted 
very  much  to  see  the  ruin  on  top  of  the  hill.  The  path 
looked  steep,  and  papa  very  much  preferred  to  take  his 
afternoon  nap  in  the  garden.  Mamma  was  a  little  lame 
and  would  not  venture  the  ascent  without  her  husband. 
It  looked  as  if  the  girls  were  going  to  lose  the  pleasure 
of  completing  their  excursion.  I  stepped  forward  and 
offered  my  services  as  an  escort.  I  explained  that  I  was 
myself  planning  to  inspect  the  ruin,  and  that  it  would  give 
me  great  pleasure  to  guide  the  young  ladies  hinauf  und 
herab,  and  I  took  pains  to  add  the  statement  that  I  was 
an  American.  Since  leaving  the  railroad,  my  German 
fluency  had  very  much  improved. 

Papa  began  naturally  enough  to  respond  that  he  was 
"under  obligations  to  the  young  gentleman  but,  that  he 
had  not  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance,"  etc.  Fortu 
nately  for  the  excursion,  mamma  came  to  the  rescue. 
Carrying  her  man  off  to  another  table,  she  presented  her 
view  of  the  matter  in  phrases  that  were  so  emphatic  that 
most  of  them  came  to  my  ears.  "You  see,  my  dear,  the 
junger  Herr  is  an  American,  and  the  Americans  are  always 
gentlemen,  and  the  dear  girls  may  not  have  another 
chance"  (whether  at  an  American  or  at  the  ruins  was  not 
so  clear),  etc.  The  maternal  argument  prevailed.  Papa 
and  I  solemnly  exchanged  cards,  and  with  a  last  injunc 
tion  to  the  girls  that  they  must  behave  "sehr  ordentlich, " 
we  three  youngsters  were  permitted  to  start  up  the  path, 
leaving  for  mamma  what  seemed  to  me  the  less  amusing 
task  of  fanning  the  flies  from  her  sleeping  Mann.  During 
the  discussion,  the  girls  had  remained  perfectly  quiet  with 


154  A  Modest  Adventure  [1861 

a  self-control  that  American  daughters  might  not  have 
exercised.  As  soon,  however,  as  we  were  fairly  outside 
of  the  garden,  they  began  to  chatter  at  a  great  rate  and  in 
the  course  of  our  little  excursion  I  was  favoured  with  a 
flood  of  details  concerning  their  house  in  Berlin,  their 
school,  interests,  their  amusements,  friends,  etc.  I 
believe  it  was  the  case  that  they  had  never,  before  the 
present  afternoon,  had  the  excitement  of  being  alone  in 
the  company  of  a  young  man;  and  this  unwonted  dissi 
pation  put  them  into  very  high  spirits  indeed,  and  possibly 
enough,  as  I  indulge  my  conceit  in  imagining,  may  have 
remained  in  their  memory  in  after  years  as  a  romantic 
episode. 

I  found  myself  not  a  little  amused  with  the  pictures  and 
impressions  given  of  the  bourgeoisie  society  of  Berlin,  and 
I  may  say  that  if  my  young  companions  were  to  be  taken 
as  fair  representatives  of  the  daughters  of  the  average 
Prussian  grocer,  the  comparison  for  general  intelligence, 
substantial  refinement  of  behaviour,  and  perception  of  les 
convenances  would  not  have  been  unfavourable  to  Berlin, 
as  compared  with  either  New  York  or  London.  I  was 
interested  also  in  picking  up  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon 
a  number  of  local  phrases  and  terms  of  the  Berlin  dialect 
which  could  not  have  been  secured  so  easily  or  so  pleasant 
ly  in  any  other  way.  We  inspected  the  ruins  and  indulged 
in  some  late  coffee,  and  I  then  took  pains  to  fulfil  my 
agreement  by  returning  my  charges  to  their  parents 
before  the  sun  had  fairly  gotten  over  the  mountains. 
The  cordiality  of  the  thanks  of  the  old  people  may  easily 
have  covered  some  feeling  of  apprehension  that  they  had 
been  carrying  during  our  absence.  The  evening  train 
brought  me  without  further  adventures  to  Coburg,  of 
which  I  have  at  this  time  memory  only  of  the  general 
aspect  of  the  Schloss,  where  had  been  born  some  forty 
years  earlier  the  Prince  Consort  of  Victoria. 


Eisenach  155 

From  Coburg  I  resumed  my  tramp,  by  way  of  Eisenach 
and  through  the  Thuringer  Wald,  to  Gotha.  The  Wartburg 
was,  of  course,  duly  inspected,  although  I  fear  there  was 
some  lack  of  reverence  in  the  regard  given  to  the  mark  of 
the  devil's  inkstand.  In  coming  away  from  the  castle,  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  fall  in  with  a  young  civil 
engineer,  whose  plan  for  tramping  across  the  Thuringer 
Wald  fell  in  very  conveniently  with  my  own.  He  had 
secured  in  the  school  of  science,  at  the  close  of  the  spring 
term,  his  degree  as  an  engineer,  and  had  been  allowed  or 
instructed  to  take  the  summer  off  before  beginning  office- 
work  in  the  fall.  The  second  day  of  our  companionship 
a  question  arose  that  might  have  caused  our  separation. 
Calvinist  as  I  was,  I  did  not  feel  it  to  be  in  order  to  use 
Sunday  for  travelling.  To  my  companion,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  seemed  very  absurd  to  lose  the  advantage  of  fine 
weather  and  valuable  vacation  time  by  not  utilising  the 
hours  of  Sunday  as  of  other  days.  We  were  both  desirous 
of  remaining  together  and  we  finally  compromised  on  what 
the  Apostles  call  a  " Sabbath  day's  journey." 

Starting  at  an  early  hour,  we  walked  until  we  reached, 
at  about  church  time,  some  convenient  village.  There  I 
attended  the  Lutheran  service  while  my  comrade  "invited 
his  soul ' '  in  the  woods.  After  a  midday  meal  and  a  resting- 
spell,  we  made  a  further  walk  until  it  was  time  for  evening 
service,  which  came,  if  I  remember  rightly,  at  about  five. 
This  gave  for  my  companion  an  opportunity  for  a  little 
further  loafing,  after  which  an  evening  walk  brought  us  to 
supper  and  to  bed. 

I  have  not  seen  the  Thuringer  Wald  since  those  pleas 
ant  sunshiny  days  of  July  forty  years  ago,  but  I  under 
stand  that  it  has  changed  very  little.  The  picture  that 
remains  in  my  memory  is  of  a  great  park  broken  here  and 
there  by  the  clearings  about  the  villages  and,  guarded  as  it 
were,  by  hilltops  crowned  with  castles  or  with  castle 


156  The  Thliringer  Wald  [1861 

ruins.  The  forestry  supervision  of  the  wood  was  very 
perfect.  I  was  told  later  that  the  Thuringer  Wald  and 
the  Hartz  were  the  two  forests  in  Europe  in  which  the 
science  of  forestry  had  been  applied  for  the  longest  series 
of  years  and  with  the  greatest  completeness  and  effective 
ness.  A  regular  system  was  pursued  in  clearing  out  the 
smaller  trees  so  as  to  leave  full  space  for  the  development 
of  those  selected  as  the  fittest.  The  underbrush  was  kept 
clear  and  when  the  under  foresters  had  completed  their 
own  work  in  taking  off  such  timber,  large  or  small,  as 
appeared  to  them  worthy  of  marketing,  the  villagers, 
principally  the  old  women  and  the  children,  came  in  for 
certain  gleaning  privileges  and  carried  off,  in  neatly  tied 
tiny  fagots,  the  smallest  of  the  twigs.  The  result  was  a 
forest  almost  as  clean  as  a  lawn,  through  which  one  could 
walk  at  will  regardless  of  the  paths.  In  the  distance,  deer 
could  be  seen  from  time  to  time.  They  were  occasionally 
hunted  but  were  evidently  shrewd  enough  to  find  out  the 
difference  between  a  man  with  a  gun  and  two  stray 
pedestrians  with  no  shooting  licences. 

The  pretty  little  streams  that  passed  beneath  the  road 
bridges  were  well  stocked  with  trout  whose  speckled  backs 
were  usually  visible  during  the  early  hours  of  the  day 
and  who  also  possibly  had  learned  to  swim  with  greater 
boldness  in  the  open  when  no  shadow  of  rod  fell  over 
the  water.  The  game  and  the  fish  were,  of  course, 
carefully  preserved  and  the  crime  of  poaching  was  one 
which  called  for  and  which,  I  was  told,  always  found, 
prompt  and  strict  punishment. 

I  was  still  new  enough  to  Germany  to  find  myself  inter 
ested  in  noting  the  little  differences  of  local  methods  as 
we  passed  from  village  to  village.  The  states  that  come 
together  in  the  Wald  are  so  small  and  are  so  intertwined 
with  their  boundaries  that  even  in  the  course  of  a  day's 
journey  on  foot,  say  twenty  miles,  one  may  cross  bound- 


Gotha  157 

aries  two  or  three  times.  The  boundary  posts  bear  on 
either  side  the  colours  belonging  to  the  respective  states 
so  that  one  could  know  at  once  whether  one  was  under  the 
rule  of,  say,  Schwarzburg-Sondershausen  or  had  already 
passed  over  into  one  of  the  villages  of  the  Duke  of  Coburg- 
Gotha.  At  some  of  the  villages,  the  constable  in  charge  of 
the  toll-house  found  himself  called  upon  to  examine  our 
knapsacks  for  dutiable  goods.  The  articles  to  be  pro 
vided  against  were,  if  I  remember  rightly,  spirits  and  sau 
sages.  In  many  of  the  villages  there  was  a  special  Fabrik 
for  the  production  of  sausages  of  some  variety  for  which 
the  village  had  earned  fame.  When  this  was  the  case,  the 
importation  into  the  village  of  a  whole  sausage  was  strictly 
prohibited.  The  regulation  could  be  gotten  over,  as  I 
discovered,  by  biting  off  the  end  of  any  sausages  that 
might  have  remained  from  the  day's  provender. 

My  summer  tramp  ended  with  my  arrival  at  Gotha, 
where  I  received  a  hospitable  welcome  from  Mrs.  Hansen, 
the  mother-in-law  of  Bayard  Taylor.  She  was  very  cor 
dial  and  motherly  in  her  care  for  me,  and  Mrs.  Taylor  and 
her  two  unmarried  sisters  did  all  that  was  possible  to 
make  my  sojourn  pleasant.  I  remember  some  garden 
parties  at  which  there  was  a  good  deal  of  music,  but  I 
am  afraid  that  my  appreciation  of  the  latter  was  hardly 
sufficiently  scientific  to  come  up  to  the  standard  of  the 
very  musical  Hansen  family.  I  had  some  chess  with 
the  old  astronomer,  who  called  me  a  promising  young 
player.  He  also  gave  me  some  views  through  the  big 
telescope  and  explanations  of  the  work  that  he  had 
taken  upon  himself  in  mapping  out  some  particular  por 
tion  of  the  heavens.  Two  of  Mrs.  Taylor's  sisters  mar 
ried  astronomers,  one  being  taken  by  her  husband  to  St. 
Petersburg  and  the  other  making  her  home  in  Hamburg. 
I  remember  hearing  Taylor  say  in  the  presence  of  his  wife 
that  he  had  been  twice  around  the  world  before  he  found 


158  Dreams  of  Forestry  [1861 

in   this    little    ducal    capital   the  particular  woman   he 
wanted. 

There  was  some  discussion  as  to  my  university  plans. 
My  own  knowledge  of  German  university  work  was  of 
the  smallest,  while  I  was  under  the  disadvantage  of  not 
having  had  any  such  collegiate  training  at  home  as  served 
to  make  a  proper  foundation  for  university  instruction 
abroad.  The  Hansens  naturally  laid  stress  on  the  attrac 
tions  of  their  home  University  of  Jena,  but  Mr.  Taylor's 
advice  was  in  favour  of  Gottingen.  The  Hansens  them 
selves  admitted  that  Jena  had  lost  its  old-time  prestige 
and  that  for  the  special  work  in  which  I  proposed  to  inter 
est  myself,  natural  science,  I  should  find  better  advan 
tages  in  the  Hanoverian  University.  I  had  decided  to 
devote -my  time  principally  to  natural  science,  partly  on 
the  ground  that  I  had  no  adequate  preparation  for  work 
in  the  other  departments,  'and  partly  because  I  found 
myself  interested  in  plans  for  chemical  investigations 
and  had  already  in  mind  a  scheme  for  a  course  of  forestry. 
I  knew  enough  of  the  conditions  of  forests  in  the  United 
States  to  realise  that  the  time  was  fast  approaching  when 
they  also  would  need  scientific  supervision.  I  had  read 
of  great  tracts  of  country  in  the  Northwest,  which  had 
been  denuded  of  their  timber,  becoming  the  sources  of 
disastrous  floods,  and  I  had  seen,  prophecies  that  unless 
the  timber-cutting  of  the  country  were  carried  on  in  a  less 
wasteful  fashion,  there  would  be,  within  the  experience  of 
my  own  generation,  in  addition  to  the  loss  through  floods, 
serious  difficulties  on  the  ground  of  the  increased  cost  of 
lumber.  Before  leaving  Berlin,  I  had  read  one  or  two 
accounts  of  the  German  forestry  system  and  had  found 
that  this  was  serving  as  a  model  for  similar  systems  in 
France,  Italy,  and  elsewhere.  Old  Mr.  Hansen  thought 
very  favourably  of  this  scheme  of  mine,  and  when  Mr. 
Taylor  corroborated  my  impression  that  we  had  as  yet  in 


i86i]  To  Gottingen  159 

the  United  States  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a  forestry  school 
or  forestry  supervision,  he  was  prepared  to  decide  with 
me  that  here  was  a  promising  opening  for  a  professional 
career. 

The  decision  was,  therefore,  made  for  Gottingen,  and 
after  sending  to  my  father  a  report  of  the  plan,  a  report 
which,  on  the  basis  of  my  own  reasons  and  on  the  advice 
of  Hansen  and  Taylor,  I  felt  confident  he  would  accept,  I 
took  up  my  knapsack  again,  fully  refreshed  with  the  ten 
days'  loafing,  and  started  on  the  road,  continuing  my 
tramp  through  the  pleasant  region  of  the  Thuringer 
Wald,  and  arrived  in  due  course  at  Gottingen. 


IX 
Gottingen 

1  ARRIVED  at  Gottingen,  as  had  been  my  intention, 
some  weeks  before  the  close  of  the  summer  vacation. 
I  wanted  to  get  what  advantage  there  might  be  from 
a  quiet  inspection  of  the  University  conditions  and  possibly 
from  an  advance  word  with,  some  of  the  instructors,  before 
the  return  of  the  students.  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  find 
in  his  home  some  weeks  in  advance  of  the  opening  term 
work  Dr.  Bartling,  who  was  the  head  of  the  Department 
of  Botany  and  was  himself  an  important  member  of  the 
special  faculty  of  the  forestry  school.  He  was  good 
enough  to  interest  himself  in  marking  out  for  me  the 
courses  of  preliminary  studies.  He  explained  that  to  the 
forestry  itself  I  should  not  be  prepared  to  devote  myself 
for  eighteen  months  or  more.  He  instructed  me  to  take 
up  in  the  first  place  chemistry,  physiological  and  system 
atic  botany,  physics,  and  certain  divisions  of  metallurgy. 
I  was  naturally  more  or  less  hampered  by  lack  of  know 
ledge  of  the  terminology.  I  had  at  this  time  a  good  work 
ing  knowledge  of  German  in  the  vernacular,  but  with  the 
limitations  to  my  eyesight  I  had  done  very  little  reading 
of  German  and  the  scientific  terms  were,  of  course,  entirely 
unfamiliar.  I  consoled  myself,  however,  with  the  idea 
that  they  would  have  been  almost  equally  unfamiliar  in 
English,  and  getting  together,  under  Bartling's  recom- 

160 


i86i]  Gottingen  161 

mendation,  the  first  group  of  text-books,  I  devoted  the  last 
few  weeks  of  the  vacation  (and  very  hot  weeks  they  were) 
to  the  work  of  mastering  the  preliminaries. 

I  was  fortunate  enough  (I  think  also  through  Bartling's 
counselling)  to  find  a  pleasant  home  in  a  small  family  circle. 
I  wanted,  if  possible,  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  living  in 
a  students*  "caravansary."  Frau  H.  lived  with  her  two 
daughters  in  a  pleasant  house  at  the  foot  of  Kiirze  Geismar 
Strasse.  The  room  assigned  to  me  overlooked  the  town 
wall,  and  as  the  house  was  built,  although  my  room  was  on 
the  second  story,  there  was  no  difficulty  in  stepping  from 
my  window  directly  on  to  the  promenade  to  which  the  old 
fortification  had  now  been  devoted.  There  was  some 
convenience,  even  for  a  student  of  my  quiet  habits,  in 
being  able  to  arrange  my  incomings  and  outgoings  with 
out  reference  to  the  front  door  or  the  door-key.  Every 
licensed  landlord  or  landlady  (and  none  other  was  per 
mitted  to  have  students  for  lodgers)  was  expected  to  be 
able,  when  called  upon,  to  give  record  of  the  hours  spent 
by  them  under  the  roof.  Every  now  and  then  some 
University  regulation  would  be  issued  under  which  the 
students  were  ordered  to  be  within  their  own  rooms  before 
midnight  and  the  morning  reports  of  the  landlords  were 
utilised  to  verify  the  thoroughness  with  which  such  regula 
tion  had  been  obeyed.  I  found,  however,  that  mine  was 
not  the  only  lodging  house  in  Gottingen  which  possessed 
convenient  windows  and  I  doubt  whether  any  large  pro 
portion  out  of  the  950  students  were  strict  observers  of 
curfew  hours.  The  old  wall  upon  which,  to  use  the  Ger 
man  phrase,  our  house  "gave, "  constituted  a  very  dis 
tinctive  feature  of  the  little  town.  It  was,  of  course, 
very  many  years  since  it  had  possessed  any  importance  as 
a  defence.  The  wall  had  been  somewhat  lowered  from  the 
original  height  of  the  fortification  and  had  been  planted 
with  a  double  row  of  trees  and  formed  a  most  attractive 


162  Gottingen 

promenade.  The  view  citywards  varied  from  half  mile 
to  half  mile  as  the  streets  opened  up  new  vistas,  while  on 
the  outer  side  the  outlook  was  over  the  plain  of  the  Leine, 
extending  to  certain  ridges  of  hills,  some  of  the  biggest  of 
which  were  still  crowned  with  the  ruins  of  the  old  castles 
that  had  once  dominated  the  valley.  An  afternoon's 
promenade  would  usually  take  one  around  the  wall  twice. 
It  was  quite  a  question  in  the  social  etiquette  of  Gottingen 
whether  two  bows  were  required  in  meeting  the  professors 
or  other  dignitaries  in  the  course  of  such  promenade,  or 
whether  the  bow  given  during  the  first  circuit  would  make 
full  discharge  of  the  obligation. 

The  H.  household  comprised  Frau  von  H.  (being  a 
North  German,  she  naturally  took  pains  that  we  should 
not  forget  the  "von"),  three  daughters,  Anna,  Melanie, 
and  Helenschen,  and  a  sailor  boy  son  who  turned  up  every 
few  months  as  his  vessel  got  back  to  Bremen.  There  was 
a  Herr  von  H.,  but  something  had  gone  wrong  with  his 
business  and  he  had  gone  off  to  New  York  to  better  his 
fortunes.  The  "bettering"  apparently  did  not  progress 
very  rapidly  and  his  wife  seemed  to  be  able  to  spare  him 
without  much  difficulty.  At  all  events,  he  never  returned 
to  Gottingen  and  I  met  him  years  afterwards  in  New  York 
where  he  had  resigned  himself  to  the  life  of  an  absentee. 
The  daughters  took  turns  in  keeping  the  house  week  in 
and  week  out.  I  understood  that  the  mother's  instruc 
tions  were  twofold :  they  were  to  keep  the  boarders  happy 
and  to  spend  no  money.  They  were  admirably  trained 
young  housekeepers  and  everything,  from  the  weighing 
of  the  sugar  or  the  counting  of  the  lumps  to  the  apportion 
ment  of  the  sausages,  seemed  to  be  supervised  with  a 
precision  and  a  system  that  I  have  known  nowhere  else 
excepting  in  army  housekeeping.  All  stores,  whether 
linen  or  food  or  fuel,  were  locked  up  and  the  rations  were 
portioned  out,  some  daily,  some  weekly,  very  much  on  the 


i86i]  Housekeeping  Methods  163 

army  system.  This  meant,  of  course,  a  very  close  super 
vision  of  the  details  of  the  work  of  the  two  servants.  The 
servants  certainly  secured  no  luxuries  either  in  the  way  of 
food  or  of  outings.  They  knew,  however,  just  what  they 
could  depend  upon.  I  am  now  speaking  not  only  of  the 
H.  household  but  of  all  similar  North  German  house 
holds  in  1861  (and  probably  doubtless  also  of  to-day). 
The  relation  between  the  servant  and  the  mistress  was  one 
of  strict  contract.  It  was  known  in  advance  just  how 
many  hours  of  the  month  were  to  be  given  to  labor,  how 
many  to  sleep,  and  how  many  (and  those  very  few)  to 
outings;  just  as  it  was  also  known  how  many  pounds  of 
sausages  and  how  many  lumps  of  sugar  would  be  assigned 
for  the  servants'  table.  Any  infringement  by  the  mistress 
of  the  rights  of  the  servant,  either  in  the  matter  of  food 
or  in  the  matter  of  overwork  or  of  time  allowance,  gave 
to  the  servant  the  right  to  make  complaint  of  the  mistress 
before  the  district  magistrate.  If  the  complaint  could  be 
shown  to  have  justification,  the  mistress  was  fined  and 
warned.  The  authority  was,  of  course,  exercised  with 
equal  promptness  the  other  way  on.  If  the  servant  were 
insubordinate  or  lazy  or  wasteful  of  material,  the  mistress 
could  complain.  The  mistress  could  not  dismiss  the  serv 
ant  within  the  time  contract  unless  the  magistrate  ad 
mitted  that  the  conditions  of  the  contract  had  been  broken. 
If  the  mistress  was  able  to  make  good  the  justice  of  her 
complaint,  the  servant  received  a  warning  and  sometimes 
also  had  to  pay  a  small  fine.  A  series  of  warnings,  I 
think  three  in  all,  would  cost  the  servant  her  Zettel  or 
licence  to  serve.  Deprived  of  this,  it  was  impossible  to 
secure  any  employment  in  a  town  household.  The  girl 
would  have  to  go  back  to  her  farm  and  perhaps  a  year 
or  two  later  would  make  a  fresh  attempt  to  secure  a  footing. 
The  three  daughters  had  no  Zetteln  as  servants  but  they 
worked  about  as  hard. 


164  A  Home  in  Gottingen  [1861 

There  were  three  boarders  in  the  house  besides  myself, 
and  the  task  of  "keeping  these  boarders  happy"  without 
exceeding  the  weekly  allowance  must  have  entailed  not 
a  little  thought  and  labour.  We  boarders  rather  got  into 
the  habit  of  playing  the  girls  off  one  against  the  other, 
insisting  for  instance  that  the  jam  and  sausage  of  Melanie's 
week  were  not  half  as  good  as  those  Helonchen  had  given 
to  us  the  week  before.  As  a  fact,  we  were  really  very  well 
cared  for  and  for  very  moderate  board,  and  as  the  girls 
soon  found  our  questions  were  not  criticisms  but  simply 
chaffings  indulged  in  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  practising 
or  airing  our  German,  they  did  not  permit  themselves  to 
be  seriously  troubled  and  we  became  and  remained  very 
good  friends.  They  were  all  well  educated  for  girls,  and 
Anna  had  so  far  perfected  herself  in  French  and  in  English 
that  she  was  able  in  between  her  housekeeping  to  give 
lessons  in  each.  A  few  months  later,  she  found  a  place  in 
England  as  a  governess.  Helonchen  was  the  belle  of  the 
household  and  I  heard  after  my  own  departure  from 
Gottingen  that  she  had  taken  possession  of  the  affections 
of  a  young  Southern  student  who  succeeded  to  my  place 
in  the  household.  His  memory  of  her  proved  to  be  abiding 
and  after  he  had  fought  his  way  in  safety  in  a  South  Caro 
lina  regiment  through  the  last  two  years  of  the  war,  he 
came  back  to  Gottingen  and  carried  her  off  to  a  home  in 
Charleston.  In  1898,  she  wrote  to  me  from  a  South 
Carolina  village,  explaining  that  her  husband  had  been 
disabled  from  some  old  war  troubles  and  that  she  was 
trying  to  pick  up  some  pennies  by  her  pen.  Unfortun 
ately  her  sketches  of  "Life  in  the  South  after  the  War," 
while  gracefully  written,  were  not  exceptionally  distinctive 
or  important  for  publication  in  book  form,  and  I  was 
able  to  serve  her  no  further  than  with  a  word  of  friendly 
greeting  and  a  line  of  introduction  to  one  or  two  of  the 
periodical  editors. 


Fellow-Students  165 

The  susceptible  Southerner  came  into  the  house  later. 
The  boarders  of  my  group,  while  appreciative  admirers  of 
the  three  daughters,  kept  themselves  free  from  serious 
flirtations  or  entanglements.  I  was  myself  young  enough 
to  be  within  the  range  of  safety,  while  the  other  three  men 
had  their  interests  elsewhere.  The  oldest  of  the  group 
was  an  Englishman  named  E.  He  was  beyond  the  years 
of  the  average  student,  partly  because  the  thought  of 
securing  a  German  degree  had  come  to  him  a  little  late 
in  life,  and  partly  because  the  task  of  doing  the  scholarly 
work  requisite  for  such  degree  proved  to  be  much  more 
serious  than  he  had  anticipated  or  than  he  was  properly 
fitted  for.  He  was  working  at  chemistry  and  had  for 
three  or  four  years  been  attempting  to  do  something 
sufficiently  definite  to  form  the  basis  of  a  thesis.  I  left 
him  in  1862  still  vaguely  groping  with  investigations  which 
he  did  not  seem  to  be  able  to  bring  to  any  pertinent  results. 
The  second  man,  B.,  was  the  son  of  a  soap  manufacturer 
of  St.  Louis.  He  had  taken  his  training  in  his  father's 
factory  and  at  some  home  technical  school,  and  had 
very  properly  decided  that,  before  taking  over  the  respon 
sibilities  of  becoming  the  chemical  adviser  of  his  father's 
business,  he  ought  to  have  the  advantage  of  the  higher 
range  of  investigations  to  be  secured  in  a  German  labora 
tory.  He  was  an  uncultivated  fellow,  but  had  plenty  of 
assurance  of  his  own,  and  his  lack  of  interest  outside  of 
his  special  business  and  of  the  chemistry  immediately 
connected  with  that  business  probably  strengthened  his 
powers  of  concentration  upon  the  work  to  which  he  was 
devoting  himself.  I  was  told  in  the  laboratory  that  he 
had  done  wonders  in  the  time  of  his  sojourn  in  mastering 
the  chemistry  of  his  subject.  His  scholarly  work  was, 
however,  not  to  prove  of  service  for  his  father's  interests  or 
for  his  own.  He  was  a  big  stalwart  fellow  to  look  at  but 
in  some  way  his  system  became  undermined.  He  broke 


i66  Fellow-Students  [1861 

down  absolutely  in  health  and  was  sent  home  from  Gottin- 
gen  only  just  in  time  to  reach  St.  Louis  for  his  death. 

The  third  boarder  was  my  own  chum  and  roommate, 
James  Morgan  Hart.  Hart  was  four  or  five  years  older 
than  myself  and  had  already  completed  his  courses  in 
Princeton.  He  was  giving  his  first  years  in  Gottingen 
to  jurisprudence  from  which  he  afterwards  diverged  to 
philology.  I  had  satisfaction  for  a  brief  term  of  weeks  in 
serving  as  his  sponsor  and  guide.  He  landed  in  Gottingen 
with  no  knowledge  of  German,  and  it  was  my  good  fortune, 
coming  to  know  him  through  a  note  from  my  father,  to 
find  a  home  for  him  and  to  get  him  steered  in  the  first 
details  of  matriculation  and  of  student  life.  The  home 
question  adjusted  itself  very  fortunately  for  me.  It  was 
quite  the  fashion  for  the  economical  students  of  Gottingen 
to  arrange  to  have  one  sitting-room  for  two  men,  out  of 
which  opened  what  the  Germans  dignified  by  the  descrip 
tion  of  bedrooms  but  what  we  Americans  would  describe 
as  sleeping  closets  or  cubby-holes.  Counting  pennies  as 
closely  as  I  did,  I  was  very  desirous  of  sharing  the  expense 
of  my  sitting-room  and  considered  myself  fortunate  in 
getting  hold  of  a  countryman  who  was  also  a  sterling  good 
fellow,  to  be  my  roommate.  In  recalling  our  respective 
methods  and  habits,  I  am  rather  surprised  that  we  got 
along  so  well  together.  He  had  a  systematic  head  for 
the  larger  matters  of  his  work,  but  in  all  the  details  of  the 
arrangement  of  papers,  books,  and  tobacco,  and  particularly 
of  the  latter,  he  was  what  I  called  slovenly.  His  half-emp 
tied  pipe  would  be  put  down  anywhere  in  the  room  where 
the  light  happened  to  come  to  an  end,  and  as  of  pipes  he 
had  a  full  collection,  there  were  always  three  or  four 
emptying  their  contents  on  to  the  tables  and  mantelpiece. 
He  had  also  an  aversion  to  keeping  his  own  work  together 
at  one  place  in  the  room,  so  that  his  papers,  books,  and 
pipe  ashes  took  possession  of  corners  which  I  had  intended 


i86i]  Fellow-Students  167 

to  reserve  for  myself.  By  means  of  diligent  housekeeping, 
however,  I  managed  to  keep  some  portions  of  the  room  in 
such  shape  that  I  could  stand  them  for  my  own  work,  and 
as  with  the  larger  matters  we  certainly  were  considerate 
to  each  other,  we  got  along  together  as  well  perhaps  as 
most  chums  do. 

Within  a  day  or  two  of  Hart's  installation  in  the  mansion 
and  before  he  had  put  together  more  than  one  or  two 
phrases  of  German,  he  involved  himself  in  a  characteristic 
little  row.  Our  room  was  up  but  one  flight  and  the 
window  was  in  easy  reach  of  the  sidewalk.  He  was  sitting 
at  the  open  window  busied  with  his  German  dictionary, 
when  three  students  returning  from  a  Kneipe,  and  pretty 
well  filled  up,  stopped  to  chaff  the  new  Yankee  "Fuchs" 
(freshman).  He  could  not  understand  their  words,  but 
it  was  quite  evident  from  their  manner  that  they  were  not 
giving  him  compliments.  He  worked  out  from  the 
dictionary  the  terms  for  "Go  away,"  but  his  German  did 
not  give  him  material  for  further  conversation.  Finally, 
becoming  indignant  with  the  interruption,  he  made  his  way 
out  through  the  front  door  and  very  much  to  the  surprise 
of  his  tormentors  tackled  the  whole  three  with  his  fists. 
The  hour  was  late  and  his  fellow-lodgers  were  all  in  bed. 
The  Englishman  E.  and  myself  were  awakened  by  the 
noise  on  the  sidewalk  in  which  noise  I  finally  identified 
an  American  expression.  We  hurried  down-stairs  in  some 
fragmentary  attire  and  found  our  friend  Hart  sitting  on 
the  curbstone  pummelling  away  with  a  certain  systematic 
persistence  at  the  head  of  his  biggest  opponent  that  he 
had  comfortably  ensconced  "in  chancery."  A  second 
fellow  was  lying  in  the  street,  where  he  had  evidently  been 
knocked  from  the  sidewalk,  and  the  third  was  attempting, 
with  no  great  measure  of  success,  to  get  a  pull  on  the  scanty 
back  hair  of  the  wild  American.  At  the  sound  of  the  steps 
behind,  Hart's  grip  on  the  head  in  chancery  relaxed,  and 


i68  Fellow-Students  [1861 

in  a  few  seconds  the  three,  two  of  them  somewhat  the  worse 
for  their  call,  were  rapidly  making  their  way  down  the 
street.  It  is  my  impression  that  Hart  was  not  thereafter 
assailed  by  any  of  his  German  fellow-students. 

After  the  departure  of  the  invalid  B.,  his  place  was  taken 
by  another  American  named  S.  S.  was  a  good-looking 
casual  kind  of  chap  whose  work  as  a  student  was  not 
important.  He  had  had  a  more  varied  experience  than 
was  the  case  with  most  of  us,  having  lived  for  a  year  or  two 
in  Buenos  Aires,  where  he  had  mastered  some  Portuguese 
and  Spanish.  He  was  pleasant  enough  as  a  companion, 
but  was  not  the  man  to  advance  the  German  opinion  of 
American  scholarship.  Among  the  students  outside  of 
our  house  with  whom  I  came  into  friendly  relations  were 
Symington,  a  good-looking  young  Virginian  who  returned  in 
'62  to  enter  the  Confederate  Army,  and  Simmons,  a  driving 
young  physician  whose  work  was  persistent  enough  but 
was  directed  very  closely  to  immediate  practical  results. 
Simmons  became  a  successful  physician  in  New  York. 
Another  American,  Maynard,  secured  distinction  on  more 
scientific  grounds.  He  was  working  at  metallurgy  and 
after  taking  further  studies  at  Clausthal,  he  made  his  way 
to  Russia  where  he  was  called  "upon  to  do  some  important 
work  in  the  mines  of  the  Ural  Mountains.  I  met  him  a 
number  of  years  afterwards  at  Lake  George.  I  was  going 
up  Black  Mountain  from  the  south  and  as  I  got  to  the  top, 
a  tall  bearded  chap  came  over  from  the  path  on  the  north. 
After  an  exchange  of  puzzled  glances,  we  identified  each 
other  with  a  cordial  remembrance  of  the  old  student  days. 
My  question  as  to  what  he  had  been  doing  during  the 
twenty-five  years  was  answered  briefly:  "I  had  some 
Russia,  and  then  there  was  a  wife,  and  by  the  way,  here's 
my  daughter, "  as  a  tall  girl  came  up  behind  him.  "  Oh , "  I 
said,  "  that's  nothing.  I  have  four  of  them, "  and  my  own 
girls  came  up  promptly  on  the  trail  to  carry  out  my  word. 


i86i]  Fellow-Students  169 

I  had  a  series  of  contests  at  chess  with  a  long-legged 
Hollander  who  was  named,  I  think,  Vallon.  He  was  the 
champion  of  the  University  and  could  easily  give  odds  to 
youngsters  of  my  group,  but  it  was,  I  think,  under  his 
tuition  that  I  secured  my  own  first  adequate  knowledge 
of  the  game.  My  nearest  friend  in  the  University  I  came 
to  know  somewhat  later.  His  name  was  von  Kowalski. 
The  "von"  is  not  the  correct  prefix  but  I  have  forgotten 
the  Polish  equivalent.  Kowalski  was  of  a  noble  War 
saw  family,  the  head  of  which,  his  father,  had  been 
actively  engaged  in  the  Revolution  of  1848  in  which  he 
had  lost  his  life  and  a  large  proportion  of  the  family  estates. 
The  son  went  home  fromGottingen  to  take  part  in  the  futile 
uprising  of  1862.  I  had  one  letter  from  him  after  my 
return  to  the  States,  a  letter  written  from  the  field.  He 
had  organised  a  battalion  of  the  peasants  from  his  own 
neighbourhood  (a  village  some  miles  from  Warsaw)  and 
was  then  marching  to  join  the  little  revolutionary  army. 
The  Poles  were  entirely  overwhelmed  as  soon  as  the  Russian 
commander  got  his  troops  fairly  at  work.  I  had  no  further 
word  from  my  friend  and  I  think  it  quite  probable  that  his 
life  and  the  rest  of  the  estates  had  been  sacrificed  to  the 
Polish  cause.  He  was  the  only  man  in  Gottingen  with 
whom  I  was  on  what  they  call  dutzen  or  tutoyer  terms.  In 
our  American  relations  we  have  no  such  convenient  change 
of  language  to  indicate  the  closer  friendship  relation. 

My  work  in  the  University  adjusted  itself  with  a 
necessary  regularity.  I  breakfasted  at  seven,  the  break 
fast  comprising  simply  the  routine  coffee  and  rolls.  I 
utilised  the  breakfast  hour  (I  left  the  house  at  eight)  for 
general  reading,  that  is  to  say  for  reading  outside  of  my 
chemical  work.  The  library,  with  its  eight  or  nine 
hundred  thousand  volumes,  was  at  the  disposal  of  all  the 
students  who  kept  their  record  straight,  and  there  was  a 
very  satisfactory  liberality  in  the  arrangement  for  the  loan 


170  Students'  Work  [1861 

of  books.  I  remember  particularly  a  beautiful  quarto 
edition  of  Gibbon's  Rome  which  I  read  at  coffee  time 
and  which  was  big  enough  to  hold  on  one  page  my  break 
fast  platter  with  the  cup  and  roll.  I  believe  I  got  through 
the  book  without  bringing  upon  its  pages  any  coffee  stains. 
From  eight  to  twelve  I  had  laboratory  work,  varied 
occasionally  with  a  morning  lecture  at  eleven.  I  had  been 
fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  table  in  the  private  laboratory 
of  Hofrath  Wohler  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  Chemical 
Department  of  the  University.  In  this  private  laboratory 
he  had  places  for  but  twelve  students  and  I  do  not  now 
recall  how  it  was  that  a  beginner  was  fortunate  enough  to 
be  included  as  one  of  the  twelve.  This  smaller  class  had 
the  advantage  not  only  of  the  closer  relations  with  the 
Hofrath  but  of  a  view  from  the  back  windows  of  the  Hof 
rath  's  garden.  In  this  garden  the  six  daughters  of  the 
Hofrath  took"  their  morning'  promenade,  probably  not 
entirely  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  they  could  be  overlooked 
by  the  jungen  Chymikern.  They  were,  I  believe,  rather 
an  intelligent  group  of  girls,  but  five  out  of  the  six  were 
obliged  to  rest  their  attractiveness  on  their  mental  capaci 
ties.  The  sixth  alone,  the  youngest,  was  pretty.  She 
had  in  fact  been  called  the  only  pretty  girl  in  Gottingen, 
but  that  statement  although  quite  in  line  with  the  con 
clusions  arrived  at  by  Heine  (see^  the  second  chapter  of 
the  Reisebilder)  was,  I  am  confident,  an  exaggeration. 
In  any  case,  Paulina  Wohler  was  assured  of  the  respectful 
admiration  of  her  father's  students.  She  afterwards 
married  the  cleverest  of  these,  a  fellow  named  Beilstein, 
who  took  his  young  wife  to  St.  Petersburg  where  he  secured 
the  post  of  Chemical  Director  of  the  Imperial  University. 
The  Hofrath  himself  deserves  a  word  of  affectionate 
remembrance.  He  was  at  that  time  about  seventy  and 
we  had  thought  that  his  work  might  be  drawing  to  a  close. 
He  lived,  however,  to  be  ninety-four  and  was  actively 


i86i]  Hofrath  Wohler  171 

in  the  harness  until  within  a  year  of  his  death.  He  had 
been  a  pupil  in  Stockholm  of  the  great  Swedish  chemist 
Berzelius,  a  fact  of  which  his  students  were  from  time  to 
time  reminded.  In  the  class  with  him  in  Stockholm 
were  Mitscherlich,  Liebig,  and  Rose,  who  shared  with 
Wohler  the  leadership  in  the  chemistry  of  Germany  and 
of  the  world.  I  do  not  yet  quite  understand  how  it  was 
that  a  man  who  had  done  as  much  as  had  Wohler  to 
advance  chemical  knowledge  could  be  so  persistent  in  his 
conservatism.  He  must,  I  think,  have  kept  himself  in 
touch  with  the  larger  scientific  movements  of  the  day  but 
the  smaller  details  of  mechanical  improvements  troubled 
him  not  a  little.  I  remember,  for  instance,  that  in  his 
blowpipe  work  he  found  the  gas-jets  difficult  to  manage. 
He  would  experiment  for  a  few  minutes  until  he  had  burned 
his  fingers,  overheated  the  blowpipe,  and  had  failed  to 
bring  out  the  experiment,  and  then,  putting  the  gas  to 
one  side,  with  some  reference  to  verfluchten  neuen  Methoden, 
he  would  take  up  his  old  spirit-lamp  and  bring  out  the 
experiments  in  triumph.  The  regular  lecture  course 
which  he  had  been  delivering  for  half  a  century  or  more, 
was  read  from  a  Heft  that  was  so  ancient  that  it  nearly  fell 
to  pieces  under  his  fingers ;  I  say  read,  but  the  reading  was 
a  mere  form,  as  the  text  was  as  familiar  to  him  as  that  of 
the  church  service  to  an  old-time  ecclesiastic.  It  is  fair 
to  say  also  that  he  interpolated  and  expatiated  somewhat 
upon  the  written  text,  but  he  would  have  been  very  help 
less  if  he  had  attempted  to  deliver  the  lecture  without 
having  at  his  hand  those  thumb- worn  pages.  He  was 
the  sweetest-natured  and  the  most  patient  of  old  gentlemen 
and  seemed  to  be  kept  in  excellent  discipline  by  those 
daughters  (there  had  been  no  Frau  Wohler  for  a  number 
of  years).  He  was  entirely  devoted  to  the  interests  of  his 
University,  which  ranked  with  him  second  only  to  the  cause 
of  chemistry.  I  remember  on  one  occasion  when  he  had 


172  Hofrath  Wohler  [1861 

been  disappointed  in  securing  from  the  University  treas 
urer  the  money  required  for  a  very  much  needed  extension 
of  the  laboratory,  he  determined  to  go  to  Hanover  and 
apply  for  help  to  the  Rector  (the  King).  We  gave  him 
our  blessing  as  his  daughters  put  him  into  the  coach  for  the 
railroad,  and  on  the  second  day  thereafter  we  were  at  the 
door  of  the  laboratory  to  greet  him  on  his  return.  ' '  Grusse, 
Herr  Hofrath.  Was  haben  Sie  gekriegt  ?  "  "Dreissig  tausend 
Thaler,  meine  Herr  en. "  The  King  had  given  him  a  draft 
on  the  privy  purse  which  included  not  only  the  amount 
asked  for  but  ten  thousand  thalers  in  addition  as  a  special 
testimonial  for  the  good  service  rendered  by  the  Hofrath 
to  the  prestige  of  the  Hanoverian  University. 

I  had  pleasant  relations  also  with  Bartling  who  was 
Professor  of  Botany.  My  work  with  him  included  in 
addition  to  attendance  twice  a  week  on  lectures,  and  some 
plant  "dissection"  in  the  lit  tie  laboratory,  certain  expedi 
tions  that  might  have  been  called  scientific  tramps  unless 
the  name  seemed  better  fitted  for  the  party  than  for  the 
journey.  The  party  usually  included  one  of  the  old  Pro 
fessor's  asvsistants  and  a  half-dozen  to  a  dozen  of  the  more 
energetic  of  the  students,  or  at  least  of  those  whose  energies 
were  not  at  the  time  being  absorbed  in  purely  frivolous 
tramps  in  other  directions.  It  was  the  Professor's  idea 
to  have  us  study  in  situ  the  growth  of  the  heath  which 
stretched  from  Gottingen  westward,  and  also  to  do  our 
part  in  completing  the  collections  for  the  class  room.  He 
was  himself  a  first-rate  travelling  companion,  full  of  remi 
niscence  and  story  and  with  a  keener  sense  of  humour  than 
one  often  finds  in  a  man  thoroughly  absorbed  in  scientific 
pursuits.  I  attended  lectures  on  physics  with  Weber, 
another  of  the  older  men  whose  work  added  to  the  fame  of 
the  University.  I  remember  the  pride  with  which  Weber 
announced  that  he  was  going  to  devote  one  course  of 
lectures  to  what  he  called  a  practical  subject  in  applied 


i86i]  Professor  Ewald  173 

physics;  the  subject-matter  of  this  division  of  the  course 
or  of  the  first  lecture  in  it  was  the  ventilation  of  buildings. 
The  lecture  room  was  in  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  University 
buildings  and  the  air  before  the  close  of  the  hour  was 
usually  of  a  consistency  that  might  almost,  as  the  boys 
say,  be  cut  with  a  knife.  Neither  to  the  lecturer  himself, 
however,  nor  to  any  of  his  German  hearers  did  there  seem 
to  come  any  impression  of  inconsistency  in  laying  down 
a  complete  theory  of  ventilation  without  some  suggestion 
for  its  application  to  the  needs  of  the  instructors  and 
students. 

I  had  brought  with  me  a  letter  of  introduction,  I  do 
not  now  recall  by  whom  written,  to  Professor  Ewald,  the 
distinguished  Hebrew  scholar.  With  the  possible  excep 
tion  of  Wohler,  Ewald' s  name  was  better  known  through 
Germany  and  in  the  world  of  scholarship  generally  than 
that  of  any  other  member  of  the  Faculty.  He  was  at 
that  time  in  his  late  sixties.  I  was  told  that  when  he  was 
quite  a  youngster,  probably  during  the  excitements  of 
1837,  he  had  taken  part  with  a  revolutionary  group  of 
professors  who  had  shown  too  openly  their  sympathy  with 
republican  theories  and  who  had,  therefore,  come  into 
disfavour  with  the  Rector  of  the  day,  the  father  of  our 
King.  Whatever  were  the  questions  at  that  time  at  issue 
between  the  King  and  his  subjects,  it  is  evident  that  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  popular  excitement  and  not  a  little 
personal  bitterness.  Seven  of  the  professors,  including 
Ewald,  finally  gave  in  their  resignations  in  a  body,  or 
possibly  were  asked  to  resign.  The  seven  included  some 
of  the  most  important  men  on  the  staff,  and  invitations 
came  to  them  speedily  from  other  of  the  German  univer 
sities  the  managers  of  which  considered  scholarship  more 
important  than  the  risk  of  revolutionary  taint.  Ewald, 
however,  weakened.  He  is  reported  to  have  made  an 
humble  submission  to  the  King  on  the  strength  of  which 


174  Professor  Ewald  [1861 

he  was  called  back  to  resume  his  chair  in  Gottingen. 
From  being  an  active  and  rather  fierce  republican,  he 
became  from  that  day  a  sturdy,  not  to  say  bigoted, 
royalist  and  his  loyalty  stood  even  the  pressure  and  the 
excitements  of  1848. 

His  course  brought  upon  him,  naturally,  a  full  measure 
of  criticism  from  the  republican  group  throughout  Ger 
many,  but  his  exceptional  attainments  secured  for  him 
the  increasing  respect  of  the  scholarly  world. 

My  letter  was  presented  shortly  after  the  news  of  the 
first  battle  of  Bull  Run,  news  which  had  come  to  him 
rather  vaguely  but  in  which  he  found  himself  keenly 
interested.  "Ah!"  he  began,  as  he  opened  the  letter, 
speaking  of  course  in  German.  "An  American,  I  see. 
Yes,  we  are  now  thinking  much  of  your  Republic,  what 
shall  I  say,  your  damned  Republic  (Eure  verfluchte  Repub- 
lik).  It  had  its  birth  in  a  rebellion  and  it  is  now  going 
to  its  death  through  a  rebellion  and  the  world  will  be  the 
better  for  its  destruction."  Then  seeing  that  the  small 
student  stood  somewhat  aghast,  for  I  did  not  have  enough 
German  to  put  in  a  proper  protest  even  if  I  had  been  ready 
to  venture  a  dispute  with  the  great  scholar,  he  changed  his 
tone.  "  Ach!  Herr  Putnam,  Entschuldigen  Sie  mich;  mit 
der  Geschichte  brauchen  wir  uns  jetz  nicht  zu  kummern." 
He  became  for  a  few  minutes  quite  liebenswurdig,  but  I 
do  not  think  that  I  ever  repeated  my  call.  I  attended  one 
lecture  in  order  to  be  able  to  remember  that  I  had  heard 
Ewald,  but  there  was  too  much  Hebrew  in  it  to  make  the 
hour  for  me  a  very  profitable  one. 

I  took  a  course  also  in  German  history,  not  because  his 
tory  was  pertinent  to  my  own  subject-matter  but  chiefly 
for  the  purpose  of  furthering  my  knowledge  of  the  language 
and  of  the  country.  I  had  the  more  time  for  lectures  in 
that  I  was  still  very  much  restricted  as  to  the  use  of  my 
eyes.  It  was  on  this  ground  also  that,  notwithstanding 


1861]  A  German  Sentence  175 

the  importance  of  increasing  my  fluency  in  German,  I  did 
not  undertake  any  lessons  in  the  language  itself.  My 
German,  such  as  I  compassed,  had  from  the  beginning  been 
taken  in  through  the  ears,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I 
have  never  since  had  an  opportunity  of  making  up  the 
inevitable  deficiencies  in  the  grammar. 

I  did,  of  course,  attempt  to  take  notes  from  the  lectures, 
at  least  from  those  which  had  to  do  directly  with  my  work. 
I  recall  one  incident  at  the  beginning  of  my  work  in  the 
lecture  room  which  had  its  value  in  emphasising  certain 
special  differences  between  the  construction  of  German 
and  of  English.  The  younger  students  in  Wohler's  lec 
ture  room  (known  in  University  parlance  as  Fuchse)  had 
seats  on  the  front  bench  directly  under  the  eye  of  the  old 
Ho f rath.  He  was  lecturing  in  the  beginning  of  his  term 
on  some  explosive  material,  I  think  a  compound  of  an 
timony.  He  had  the  powder  on  a  tray  near  his  arm 
and  was  emphasising  for  our  benefit  its  extremely  explos 
ive  qualities.  "It  will,"  he  said,  "explode  with  the  least 
touch,  sometimes  even  if  you  should  look  at  it  a  little  too 
hard. "  While,  however,  he  was  making  fun  in  this  man 
ner  of  the  students  whose  heads  were  nearest  to  his  table, 
he  carelessly  permitted  the  sleeve  of  his  coat  to  touch  the 
contents  of  the  tray.  There  was  a  little  burst  and  a  flash 
up  into  the  old  gentleman's  face  and  he  fell  back  blinded 
into  the  arms  of  his  assistant,  who  led  him  away  into  the 
wash-room.  .  The  assistant  came  back  in  a  minute  with 
the  word  that  the  Hofraih  was  not  seriously  injured  and 
would  continue  the  lecture  very  shortly.  In  common  with 
one  or  two  other  of  the  younger  American  students,  I  had 
been  taking  my  notes  in  English.  This  necessitated,  in 
the  case  of  sentences  beginning  with  a  separable  verb, 
waiting  to  put  down  the  first  word  of  the  English  sentence 
until  one  had  heard  the  final  word  of  the  German.  The 
Hofrath  had  known  of  this  practice  and  advised  us  that  it 


176  Laboratory  Work  [1861 

would  be  better  to  take  our  notes  in  German,  even  in  pretty 
bad  German.  When  he  came  back  to  his  desk,  still  pretty 
black  in  the  face  and  with  his  eyes  very  bleary,  he  looked 
at  the  front  row  a  little  comically  and  then  at  his  notes,  and 
at  last  gave  us  the  final  word  of  the  sentence  for  which  we 
had  been  waiting,  "an."  Our  separable  verb  thus  com 
pleted,  we  were  able  to  dash  into  the  beginning  of  the 
long  sentence,  but  it  was  not  easy  for  us  to  catch  up  again 
with  the  lecturer  during  the  hour.  The  sentence  took 
altogether  about  twenty  minutes  to  complete  and  was,  I 
think,  the  longest  example  of  which  I  had  knowledge. 
After  that  I  took  my  notes  in  German. 

Wohler's  chief  assistants  with  whom  we  youngsters  had 
to  do  were  Beilstein  (Beilstein  the  fortunate,  we  called  him 
later),  Fittig,  and  von  Uslar.  The  last  named  was  of 
baronial  family,  but  the  brains  of  the  staff  belonged  to  the 
two  base-born.  I  owed  a  service  to  von  Uslar,  however, 
which  has  served  to  keep  his  name  in  my  memory.  I  was 
permitted  to  handle  certain  of  the  chemicals  rather  in 
advance  of  what  I  should  now  call  adequate  knowledge  of 
their  properties.  I  was  working  one  afternoon  at  one  of 
the  hooded  tables  on  some  preparations  the  gases  from 
which  made  it  desirable  to  protect  the  rest  of  the  labora 
tory  from  the  odours.  I  had  gotten  through  with  the 
sulphuretted  hydrogen  and,  through  some  accident,  had 
taken  hold  of  certain  materials  the  combinations  of  which 
produced  a  much  more  satisfactory  smell.  The  smell 
leaked  out  a  little  from  my  hood  and  fortunately  came  to 
the  nose  of  von  Uslar.  He  rushed  to  the  little  door  of  the 
enclosure  in  time  to  save  me  from  getting  a  bad  headache, 
if  nothing  worse,  from  the  fumes  of  prussic  acid. 

The  days  were  not  entirely  devoted,  however,  to 
sulphuretted  hydrogen  and  prussic  acid.  There  were 
intervening  hours  which  were  given  pleasantly  enough  to 
tramps  in  the  picturesque  neighbourhood  about  the  little 


i86i]  Tramps  177 

town.  Gottingen  lies  on  the  edge  of  the  Hartz  district 
and  on  clear  afternoons  the  Brocken,  with  its  neighbouring 
peaks,  could  be  seen  from  the  promenade.  On  the  hills 
near  by,  as  previously  stated,  were  some  picturesque 
ruins,  and  as  I  had  already  discovered,  there  is,  under 
present  conditions  in  Germany,  a  close  association  between 
ruins  and  beer  gardens.  The  nearest  of  our  castles  was 
called  Die  Plesse  and  could  be  reached  in  a  walk  of  perhaps 
three  quarters  of  an  hour.  The  more  picturesque  of  the 
castles  were,  however,  those  on  the  twin  hills  entitled 
Die  Gleichen.  According  to  the  legend,  the  castles,  the 
remains  of  which  crowned  these  two  hills,  had  been  built 
by  twin  brothers  who,  at  first  deeply  attached,  managed 
later  to  quarrel  over  some  joint  lady-love.  They  kept  up 
a  running  warfare  until  their  property  was  exhausted  and 
their  castles  reduced  to  ruins.  At  this  point  the  lady 
married  some  third  admirer  who  still  possessed  a  whole 
castle.  The  brothers  returned  to  their  earlier  friendship 
but  did  not  succeed  in  restoring  their  wasted  properties. 
The  ruins  were  fine  and  the  beer  attached  thereto  was 
classed  as  the  best  in  Hanover. 

The  Plesse  served  a  more  important  purpose  than  that 
of  an  afternoon  resort  for  modest  pedestrians.  It  was 
here  that  were  carried  on  the  larger  proportion  of  the  duel 
ling  contests.  The  University  of  Gottingen  included  a 
full  representation  of  the  historic  Chors  and  Verbindungen 
which  had  branches  in  all  the  leading  universities  in 
Germany,  and  in  addition  to  these  were  one  or  two  fighting 
societies,  probably  more  recent  in  their  origin,  which  were 
peculiar  to  Hanover,  or  at  least  to  the  two  or  three  uni 
versities  of  the  Hartz  and  Thuringian  regions.  The 
advance  of  what  might  be  called  the  modern  spirit  had, 
however,  diminished  in  Gottingen  as  in  other  universities 
the  support  given  to  the  fighting  Chors.  It  is  my  impres 
sion  that  fully  one  third  of  the  nine  hundred  and  fifty 


178  The  Fighting  Korps 

students  had  declined  to  take  membership  in  any  of  the 
formal  societies.  These  outsiders  were  known  as  Wilder 
and  the  Wilder  naturally  included  the  larger  proportion 
and  nearly  all  of  the  English  and  American  contingents. 
Among  the  Chors  whose  names  remain  in  my  memory 
were  die  Roihen  Hanoveraner  (which  being  the  home 
society  was  probably  the  strongest  in  numbers),  die 
Grunen  Braunschweiger ',  die  Westphalen,  die  Borussen,  die 
Sachsen,  and  die  Normannen.  The  last  named  was  a 
new  and  comparatively  small  society,  the  members  of 
which  were  trying  to  fight  their  way  into  recognition. 
There  was  in  addition  an  in-between  society  whose  official 
name  I  have  forgotten,  but  which  was  described  as  die 
Christlichen  Gemeinde,  or  for  short  die  Weissen  Mutzen. 
The  members  of  this  society  were  under  obligations  not 
to  fight  unless  they  were  taunted  with  cowardice  for  hav 
ing  refused  to  fight.  A,  Weisse  Miitze  who  had  been 
assailed  on  this  ground  had  the  right  of  protecting  his 
honour  with  one  bout  and  was  then  expected  to  resume 
his  peaceful  routine.  The  creed  of  the  society  practically 
amounted  to  a  statement  that  fighting  ought  not  to  be 
done  frivolously  or  too  frequently  but  that  some  little 
fighting  was  necessary  if  a  man  were  to  retain  the  respect 
of  his  fellows.  The  Wilder  were  under  no  general  or  party 
obligations.  They  could  fight  or  not  as  they  chose.  With 
them  also  fighting  was,  therefore,  not  taken  up  frivolously 
or  as  a  matter  of  prestige  but  only  if  the  insult  seemed  too 
grave  to  overlook.  The  English  and  American  Wilder 
took  still  a  different  ground.  They  were  quite  ready  to 
protect  themselves  if  ever  insulted  or  assailed,  but  they 
refused  to  admit  that  they  were  bound  to  utilise  for  their 
protection  the  Schlager  or  two-edged  sword  which  was  the 
official  weapon  of  Gottingen.  They  had  for  the  most  part 
a  capacity  in  the  use  of  their  fists  which,  fortunately  for 
them,  was  outside  of  the  experience  of  their  German  asso- 


i86i]  Student  Fights  179 

dates.  In  fact  to  the  German  student  of  my  day,  the  use 
of  fists  was  thought  to  be  something  brutal,  a  method  that 
belonged  to  peasants  rather  than  to  gentlemen.  In  the 
affrays  of  which  I  have  memory,  the  English  and  Amer 
icans,  even  the  little  chaps  like  myself  who  could  lay 
claim  neither  to  strength  nor  to  science,  were  more  than 
able  to  hold  their  own  with  German  opponents,  particu 
larly  if  (as  was  usually  the  case  with  Germans  who  were 
exceptionally  provoking)  these  were  already  more  or  less 
filled  up  with  beer.  The  fights  that  came  off,  sometimes  in 
the  beer  gardens  and  sometimes  in  the  streets,  had  pretty 
uniformly  results  similar  to  that  described  in  the  little 
bout  in  which  my  friend  Hart  had  figured. 

The  bouts  between  the  members  of  the  fighting  Korps 
were,  as  a  rule,  not  personal  at  all,  that  is  to  say  were  not 
caused  by  any  individual  quarrels  or  antagonisms.  Each 
Korps,  in  order  to  maintain  its  prestige  and  its  position, 
was  under  the  necessity  of  bringing  through  (durch- 
bringen)  a  certain  number  of  fights  in  the  course  of  the  term 
with  each  other  Korps  in  the  University.  The  secretaries 
or  executive  committees  of  the  respective  societies  ar 
ranged  for  the  dates  of  the  fights  just  as  similar  committees 
with  us  would  arrange  for  contests  at  baseball  or  foot 
ball.  The  Korps  selected  their  own  representatives  with 
the  purpose,  of  course,  of  overtoping  the  other  fellows  in 
as  large  a  proportion  as  possible  of  the  season's  contests. 
When  the  names  of  the  duellists  selected  had  been  ex 
changed  between  the  secretaries  of  the  societies,  the  men 
themselves  were  brought  together  by  appointment  in  order 
that  the  form  of  insult  might  be  gone  through  with.  The 
meeting  for  the  purpose  was  usually  the  official  Kneipe 
of  one  or  other  of  the  societies.  A  push  or  a  touch  on  the 
shoulder  accompanied  by  the  words  "Er  ist  ein  dummer 
Junger"  (the  use  of  the  third  person  singular  between  men 
of  the  same  social  station  is  in  itself  an  insult)  met  the 


i8o  The  Duel  [1861 

requirements.  The  insult  in  the  presence  of  witnesses 
was  duly  noted  on  the  record  book  kept  for  the  purpose 
and  the  next  morning  the  cards  were  exchanged  by  the 
seconds. 

For  the  sake  of  economy,  the  duels  were  so  arranged  that 
a  group  could  come  off  on  the  same  afternoon.  There  was 
some  little  expense  involved  in  the  payment  to  the  Wirth 
of  the  beer  garden  (who  was  technically  liable  to  a  fine  for 
the  breach  of  University  laws)  and  possibly  also  for  the 
attendance  of  the  surgeons,  although  I  am  not  sure 
whether  or  not  these  latter  were  paid.  The  duel  itself  has 
been  described  so  frequently  in  the  records  of  German 
universities  that  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  bring  the 
details  of  it  into  a  personal  diary  like  the  present.  I  had 
opportunity  of  seeing  three  or  four  in  the  course  of  the 
winter,  being  accepted  as  a  guest  by  some  member  of  one 
of  the  Korps  concerned.  After  I  had  fairly  mastered  the 
routine,  I  was  not  interested  in  giving  further  time  to  the 
spectacle.  The  selection  of  a  duelling  place  a  mile  or 
two  out  of  town  was  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  the  an 
noyance  of  having  the  duel  interfered  with.  As  stated, 
the  whole  business  was  formally  forbidden  by  the  Uni 
versity  regulations,  but  unless  it  was  carried  on  intemper- 
ately  or  unless  the  officials  got  the  impression  that  there 
was  a  fierceness  of  antagonism  likely  to  bring  about  serious 
results  (that  is  to  say  something  worse  than  the  ordinary 
needle  wounds — Nadeln),  the  afternoon's  amusement  was, 
as  a  rule,  not  interrupted.  The  possibility  of  interruption 
had  however  to  be  provided  against.  Sentinels  were 
stationed  at  the  entrance  to  the  garden  and  some  little 
way  out  on  the  road  to  town.  The  University  "poodles'* 
were  for  the  most  part  veterans  of  the  army  and  some  of 
them  at  least  were  wooden-legged  veterans.  They  were, 
therefore,  hardly  capable  of  making  a  swift  onset.  As  a 
fact,  the  approach  of  the  "poodles"  could  usually  be 


i86i]  The  Duel  181 

noted  on  the  open  road  sufficiently  in  advance  of  the  time 
of  their  arrival  to  enable  all  traces  of  duelling  to  be 
removed.  When  the  veterans  did  make  their  appearance 
in  the  garden,  they  would  find  only  peaceable  groups  of 
students  taking  their  beer  at  the  several  tables  (the  mem 
bers  of  the  fighting  Korps  being  even  mixed  together  for 
the  purpose)  and  would  have  no  other  resource  but  to 
accept  the  beer  hospitality  which  was  always  tendered 
to  them  with  commiseration  for  their  dusty  and  wasted 
journey.  They  would  then  go  back  and  report  to  the 
official  in  charge  of  discipline  (I  have  forgotten  his  title) 
that  " there  was  nothing  doing";  it  was  merely  a  false 
alarm. 

One  of  the  duels  that  I  witnessed  had  a  little  more 
sharpness  of  antagonism  than  belonged  to  most  of  the 
series.  I  had  spoken  of  the  fighting  Normannen.  It 
appears  that  the  other  Korps  felt  some  irritation  at  the 
intrusion  of  this  new  society  and  had  determined  to  fight 
it  out  of  existence.  The  challenges  had  been  poured  in 
upon  the  small  group  of  Normannen  to  such  an  extent  that 
each  "Norman"  had  his  hands  full  from  week  to  week. 
I  believe  that  a  term  or  two  later  the  plucky  little  group 
was  so  far  exhausted  that  it  was  obliged  to  decline  further 
challenges  for  the  year,  and  probably,  thereafter,  the 
society  went  out  of  existence.  In  the  fight  that  I  wit 
nessed,  the  " Norman"  was  a  thick-set  chap  below  the 
average  height  and  was  opposed  to  a  long-legged  "Han 
overian"  who  must  have  overtopped  him  by  six  or  eight 
inches.  The  Hanoverian  from  the  vantage  point  of  his 
height,  and  with  the  muscular  strength  of  his  arm,  rained 
blows  upon  the  guard  of  the  Norman  with  the  idea  of 
breaking  this  down  by  main  force.  For  the  guard  in  use 
against  the  upper  cut,  the  Schldger  is  held  above  the  head 
a  few  inches  and  almost  at  right  angles  to  the  arm.  The 
Norman's  Schldger  remained  unshaken  by  the  fierce 


182  Excursions 

series  of  blows,  and  the  instant  the  Hanoverian  arm  had 
weakened  a  little,  the  Norman  sword  dropped  and  with  a 
beautiful  downward  and  upward  sweep  came  in  and  up 
under  the  guard  of  his  antagonist,  ripping  open  the  whole 
side  of  the  face  with  so  serious  a  cut  that  the  Hanoverian 
had  to  be  dbgefuhrt.  The  victory  for  the  day  rested  with 
the  Normans. 

The  greater  number,  however,  of  my  afternoon  excur 
sions  had  nothing  to  do  with  fights.  A  favourite  walk  was 
on  the  road  towards  the  Brocken,  the  first  stopping-point 
on  which  was  the  pretty  village  of  Weender.  The  great 
convenience  of  German  roads,  at  least  in  the  Thuringian 
and  Hartz  region,  is  the  fact  that  at  distances,  apparently 
selected  for  the  comfort  of  pedestrians,  are  always  to  be 
found  nicely  appointed  little  inns  with  the  best  of  beer 
and  with  satisfactory  Pumpernickel,  cheese,  and  sausage. 
I  imagine  that  these  roads  are  to-day  used  frequently  by 
bicyclists,  in  which  case  the  interval  between  the  inns 
can  safely  be  made  longer.  The  American  and  English 
students  attempted  to  bring  about  some  athletic  amuse 
ments,  but  the  attempts  had  but  a  transitory  success. 
We  joined  our  English  friends  once  or  twice  in  an  experi 
mental  cricket  match  but  there  was  no  piece  of  ground  that 
was  really  satisfactory  for  a  cricket  pitch.  They  in  return 
took  part  with  us  once  or  twice  in  a  baseball  match  but 
the  intricacies  of  American  baseball  proved  too  fatiguing 
for  them  and  they  declined  to  remain  interested.  For  such 
sports  our  German  friends  were  hopeless.  It  has  always 
been  a  puzzle  to  me  why  the  Germans,  with  their  talent 
for  organisation  and  their  readiness  to  accept  the  authority 
of  organisation,  have  always  been  so  unenterprising  as 
far  as  organised  athletics  were  concerned.  The  only 
athletic  sport  in  which  the  German  students  indulged 
(unless  one  can  call  the  use  of  the  Schldger  an  athletic 
exercise)  was  in  the  Turn-verein  or  gymnasium.  Here, 


Social  Relations  183 

however,  the  work  or  play  was,  of  course,  individual  and 
did  not  call  for  the  training  together  of  nines  and  of 
elevens. 

There  was  not  very  much  social  life  in  the  town,  at  least 
as  far  as  the  students  were  concerned.  The  better  be 
haved  among  us  enjoyed  the  advantage  from  week  to  week 
of  invitations  to  the  Kaffee-Klatschereien  (the  equivalent 
of  afternoon  teas)  given  by  the  wives  or  daughters  of  the 
professors.  But  we  did  not  as  a  rule  find  these  particularly 
interesting. 

With  a  few  exceptions,  the  womankind  belonging  to  the 
University  instructors  were  several  steps  below  their  men 
folk  in  intelligence  and  in  intellectual  development.  The 
lack  of  brain  power  might  have  been  offset  by  a  sufficiency 
of  grace  and  personal  attractiveness,  but  the  impression 
that  remains  with  me  after  these  long  series  of  years  in 
regard  to  the  ladies  of  Gottingen,  young  and  old,  is  sub 
stantially  in  accord  with  the  uncomplimentary  description 
given  by  Heine.  The  three  daughters  in  our  own  home 
circle  were  to  me  about  the  most  attractive  of  the  German 
girls  within  reach.  I  came  into  pleasant  social  relations 
with  a  couple  of  English  girls  who  had  made  friends  with 
the  Heinze  family  and  who  made  a  practice  on  each  Sun 
day  of  taking  their  evening  meal  at  the  house.  Mary 
and  Priscilla  D.  were  the  daughters  of  an  English  vicar 
and  had  been  left  at  the  death  of  their  mother  and  father 
with  a  very  small  patrimony.  The  money  was  not  enough 
to  give  them  an  income  and  they  decided,  therefore,  to 
invest  it  in  an  education  which  should  enable  them  to  take 
up  teaching  as  a  profession  with  some  effectiveness.  They 
were  passing  a  year  or  two  in  Germany  for  the  sake  of  the 
language  and  general  training.  I  have  a  very  pleasant 
memory  of  the  sisters  and  particularly  of  the  younger. 
It  is  possible  that  she  was  not  really  as  pretty  as  she  then 
seemed  to  me,  but  I  had,  in  fact,  up  to  that  time  been 


184  The  Royal  Rector  [1861 

associated  with  but  very  few  girls  of  my  own  generation. 
I  served  as  escort  for  the  sisters  at  such  times  when  an 
escort  might  have  been  imagined  to  be  required,  although 
they  were  pretty  well  able  to  take  care  of  themselves. 
Once  or  twice,  however,  I  did  have  the  satisfaction  of 
getting  into  street  fights  on  their  behalf  with  students  who 
were  sufficiently  full  of  beer  to  be  troublesome. 

Thirty  years  after  leaving  Gottingen,  I  called  upon  the 
sisters,  who  were  at  that  time  managing  a  large  school  at 
Hampstead.  They  were  much  pleased  that  I  should  have 
kept  them  in  memory.  I  had  with  me  as  a  companion 
for  this  call  another  Gottingen  student  who  had  come  to 
know  them  during  their  sojourn,  a  man  who  had  made  a 
mark  for  himself  in  several  directions  of  activity.  James 
Kent  Stone,  whose  work  in  Gottingen  overlapped  my  own 
for  a  brief  period,  was  a  grandson  of  Chancellor  Kent  in 
New  York.  He  had  been  -graduated  at  Harvard  at  an 
age  much  younger  than  the  average  and  with  high  honours. 
He  took  work  in  Gottingen  and  in  Leipsic  and  astonished 
his  German  associates  by  his  capacity  for  mastering  in  one 
year  material  to  which  they  were  accustomed  to  devote  a 
leisurely  two  or  three  years. 

I  had  referred  to  the  continued  personal  interest  taken 
in  the  affairs  of  his  University  by  the  Rector,  the  blind 
King.  From  time  to  time  during  the  year,  the  King  would 
come  to  Gottingen  on  a  visitation  and  on  these  occasions 
the  nine  hundred  students  would  form  as  a  battalion  of 
reception  at  the  railroad  station  and  would  march  as  escort 
with  their  Rector  to  the  official  quarters.  At  the  time  of 
departure,  there  would  be  the  singing  of  the  old  Han 
overian  song  (the  tune  was  called  by  Englishmen  "God 
save  the  Queen, "  but  we  knew  that  it  was  an  old  Hanover 
ian  air  that  had  been  carried  over  to  England  with  the 
Georges) .  The  words  fitted  to  the  tune  varied,  naturally, 
according  to  the  association.  We  had  some  University 


i86i]  The  Royal  Rector  185 

verses  entitled  "Georgia  Augusta."  In  Gottingen,  as  in 
German  universities  generally,  the  mass  of  the  students 
could  be  trusted  to  sing  with  effectiveness  and  even  with 
beauty.  The  volume  of  sound  was  fortunately  sufficiently 
great  to  permit  youngsters  like  myself  whose  musical 
genius  never  was  properly  recognised  at  home  to  join  in 
with  fair  melody  and  without  risk  of  discord. 

An  example  of  the  authority  exercised  by  the  Rector 
when  occasion  arose  was  afforded  by  the  experience  of  one 
of  my  American  friends  who  was  dissatisfied  with  the 
amount  of  time  prescribed  in  his  faculty  for  certain  courses. 
He  wanted  the  Dean  of  the  Law  School  to  let  him  do 
four  years*  work  in  two  years.  The  Dean  refused.  He 
appealed  to  the  pro-Rector,  at  that  time  Wohler,  who, 
being  a  chemist,  properly  enough  declined  to  take  author 
itative  action  in  regard  to  a  matter  of  law.  He  asked  if 
there  were  any  further  appeal  possible  and  learned  that 
the  right  rested  with  him  to  go  to  the  Rector.  He  jour 
neyed,  therefore,  to  Hanover  and  applied  for  audience, 
an  audience  that  was  very  seldom  denied  to  a  repre 
sentative  of  the  University.  The  caution  given  by  the 
Chamberlain  of  the  Palace  was  not  difficult  to  follow. 
"  The  gentleman  is  from  the  University.  He  will  kindly 
bear  in  mind  that  his  Majesty  is  to  be  addressed  not  as 
'Your  Majesty'  but  as  'Herr  Rector/  The  gentleman 
is  English?  No,  American.  He  will  also  be  careful  to 
address  his  Majesty  in  English.  This  is  the  language 
the  Herr  Rector  prefers  to  use  with  his  English  students." 

The  case  was  therefore  stated  by  the  student  in  English. 
The  Herr  Rector  thought  for  a  moment  and  then  replied 
in  substance  as  follows:  ' 'Ah,  you  America ne si  You  are 
always  in  such  a  hurree — what  is  it  that  you  say? — such 
a  damned  hurree."  The  Rector  was  shrewd  enough  to 
remember  that  one  reason  why  the  Hanoverian  University 
had  in  years  past  proved  particularly  attractive  to  American 


1 86  Gottingen  Methods 

students  was  the  opportunity  of  carrying  on  their  work  in 
their  own  way.  It  was  the  common-sense  administration 
of  Gottingen  which  enabled  foreigners  to  secure  the  full 
advantage  of  instruction  from  an  association  with  the 
distinguished  men  of  the  faculty  without  being  hampered 
by  petty  and  arbitrary  restrictions  such  as  have  heretofore 
obtained  for  instance  in  Oxford  and  in  Cambridge,  re 
strictions  that  have  prevented  the  English  universities 
from  gathering  in  for  post-graduate  work  any  important 
number  of  outsiders.  It  remains  to  add  that  my  friend 
returned  to  Gottingen  with  an  order  on  his  Dean  to  per 
mit  him  to  shape  his  work  in  his  own  way.  He  was 
examined  at  the  end  of  the  two  years  and  came  out  tri 
umphantly,  securing  in  this  examination  a  second  place  in 
competition  with  a  group  of  students  who  had  given  four 
years  to  their  preparation.  My  friend  then  shifted  over 
his  work  to  philology,  and  at  the  end  of  six  years'  uni 
versity  experience  in  Germany  brought  back  to  America 
a  varied  training  that  he  was  able  to  bring  to  bear  later 
to  good  purpose  as  a  university  professor. 

During  these  first  months  of  my  university  career,  grave 
events  were  happening  at  home.  Already  in  the  earlier 
part  of  the  summer,  I  had  gathered  during  my  long  tramp, 
through  occasional  references  in  the  German  papers,  that 
the  trouble  between  the  North  and  South  was  increasing 
and  that  the  new  Administration  was  having  its  hands  full 
of  anxious  responsibilities.  I  had  been,  however,  so  far 
separated  from  direct  news  that  it  was  months  after  the 
fall  of  Fort  Sumter  (on  April  14,  1861)  before  I  learned 
of  this  first  actual  conflict  at  arms  and  was  able  to  under 
stand  just  what  the  conflict  stood  for.  Probably  very 
few  people  either  at  home  or  abroad  were  able  to  realise 
that  it  was  the  beginning  of  a  four  years'  war,  but  it  was 
made  clear  that  the  beginning  of  the  bombardment  from 
Charleston  of  a  fort  bearing  the  United  States  flag  marked 


i86i]  News  of  War  187 

an  epoch  in  the  history  of  America.  My  letters  from  home 
were  written  as  transatlantic  letters  are  so  apt  to  be 
written  by  those  who,  having  themselves  full  knowledge  of 
the  details  of  events,  find  it  difficult  to  realise  that  the 
other  fellow,  away  from  papers,  has  only  impressions  con 
cerning  the  happenings.  It  was  not  until  I  was  sufficiently 
settled  in  Gottingen  to  arrange  for  a  weekly  paper  from 
New  York,  that  I  fairly  got  into  touch  again  with  the 
summary  of  American  news. 

The  report  of  the  disaster  at  Bull  Run  came  in  the  first 
place  through  telegraphic  news  from  London.  The  one 
English  paper  which  was  the  authority  on  the  Continent, 
and  a  copy  of  which  could  usually  be  found  in  the  leading 
hotels,  was  the  Times.  The  managers  of  the  Times  con 
vinced  themselves  at  a  very  early  date  in  the  Civil  War 
that  the  career  of  the  United  States  as  a  nation  had  closed 
and  that  the  continent  was  to  be  divided  into  two  or  more 
states  or  nations.  Having  committed  itself  more  or  less 
to  this  conclusion,  its  leaders  and  the  letters  of  its  corre 
spondents  from  New  York  and  Washington  were  so  far 
coloured  that  every  occurrence  was  made  to  conform  to  the 
theories  originally  arrived  at.  It  may  also  fairly  be  said 
that  during  the  first  year  and  during  also  a  large  part  of  the 
second  year  of  the  war,  the  course  of  events  seemed  to  be 
in  favour  of  the  theory  arrived  at  by  the  Times.  It  was  not 
easily  to  be  believed  (certainly  not  by  those  who  had  no 
close  knowledge  of  the  commercial  conditions  and  relative 
resources  of  the  North  and  of  the  South)  that  after  eight 
een  months  of  a  war  which  showed  so  little  progress 
towards  a  re-establishment  of  the  National  Government, 
and  after  campaigns  which  left  the  army  of  the  South  still 
within  gunshot  of  the  capital  of  the  country,  there  could 
be  much  prospect  of  the  conquest  (as  it  was  called)  of  a 
territory  as  large  as  Central  Europe,  defended  by  a  popu 
lation  as  warlike  and  as  well  led  as  that  of  the  South. 


1 88  News  of  War  [1861 

When  Northerners  themselves  were  discouraged,  it  is  not 
surprising  that  Englishmen  doubted,  and  that  French 
men  and  Germans  scoffed  at,  the  idea  of  the  continued 
existence  of  the  United  States. 

It  was  evident  from  the  correspondence  of  my  father 
that  he  was  one  of  the  Northerners  who  refused  to  be 
discouraged.  I  have  described  in  the  record  of  his  own  life 
the  plucky  co-operation  given  by  him  among  the  civilian 
aids  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  and  the  pains  that  he  took 
to  point  out  in  an  article  brought  into  print  in  the  New 
York  papers,  and  later  in  the  Knickerbocker,  the  misstate- 
ments  and  falsifications  in  regard  to  that  battle  which 
were  forwarded  to  the  London  Times  by  its  American  cor 
respondent,  W.  H.  Russell,  and  which  through  the  Times 
supplied  not  only  the  information  but  the  conclusions  for 
Continental  Europe.  The  readers  of  the  Continent  who 
accepted  their  American  hews  through  the  columns  of  the 
Times  understood  that  this  battle  had  practically  settled 
the  contest,  or  at  least  had  made  clear  at  once  what  the 
result  of  the  contest  must  be ;  and  these  readers  naturally 
enough  never  came  into  knowledge  of  the  corrections  made 
by  my  father  and  by  others  of  the  falsifications  of  Russell 
in  these  earlier  reports  and  of  the  similar  false  statements 
and  wrong-minded  conclusions  that  characterised  all  of 
the  American  correspondence  to  the  Times  during  the 
years  of  the  war. 

My  German  friends  were  not  a  little  surprised  to  find 
that  months  after  the  Battle  of  Bull  Run,  the  North  was 
still  proceeding  with  its  preparations  and  with  the  organ 
isation  of  its  forces,  and  that  the  Northern  leaders  were  in 
fact  taking  the  ground  that  they  had  only  "just  begun  to 
fight. "  Some  of  our  English  fellow-students  received 
from  time  to  time  copies  of  the  London  Punch  and  I 
can  remember  my  annoyance  and  indignation  with  a 
large  number  of  the  cartoons  on  American  events  that 


i86i]  News  of  War  189 

came  into  the  paper  during  the  first  eighteen  months  of 
the  war.  An  early  cartoon,  in  1861,  shows  Mrs.  Carolina 
drawn  as  a  virago  swinging  a  long  lash  and  asserting  her 
"right  to  larrup  her  own  niggers. "  A  little  later,  we  have 
President  Abe  entering  upon  his  official  residence  and 
looking  up  with  dismay  at  black  figures  falling  (as  they 
might  fall  in  a  "London  particular")  from  the  skies. 
Lincoln  is  saying,  "What  a  nice  white  house  this  would 
be  if  it  were  not  for  the  blacks."  An  impressive  picture 
presents  John  Bull  in  the  role  of  a  rather  autocratic  cus 
tomer  telling  the  Americans  to  stop  fighting  or  he  will 
transfer  his  orders  to  some  other  shop.  "I  will  fight," 
says  Jonathan,  "and  I  will  have  a  national  debt  like  other 
people." 

In  October,  1861,  Punch  presents  to  small  Germany 
a  little  ship  as  the  beginning  of  his  navy.  The  young 
Teuton's  navy  has  grown  somewhat  during  the  fifty  years 
since.  In  November,  there  is  a  picture  of  King  Cotton  in 
the  guise  of  Prometheus  bound  by  the  blockade,  with  a 
Yankee  as  the  vulture.  I  find  also  the  statement  that, 
owing  to  the  scarcity  of  cotton,  Parisian  milliners  are 
charging  seventy  per  cent,  extra  for  padding  and  the 
beauties  of  France  find  themselves  pinched. 

The  impression  in  Germany  (as  far  as  I  was  able  to 
judge  from  my  rather  restricted  view)  of  the  nature  of  the 
issue  and  of  the  character  of  the  combatants  was  at  best 
but  hazy  and  confused.  I  remember  the  instance  of  one 
scholarly  professor  whose  years  had  been  devoted  to  some 
special  Oriental  subject,  but  who  found  himself  interested, 
in  connection  with  some  telegram  to  the  Allgemeine 
Zeitung,  in  securing  further  information  concerning  this 
special  group  of  happenings  in  the  Far  West.  He  tackled 
me  at  the  entrance  of  one  of  the  lecture  halls  (I  had  met 
him  at  some  afternoon  Kaffee)  with  the  inquiry:  "Now 
tell  me,  Herr  Putnam," — he  was,  of  course,  speaking  in 


190  News  of  War  [1861 

German, — "I  want  to  know  about  this  curious  American 
matter.  I  do  not  understand  how  there  is  room  in  the 
territory  for  this  long  march  that  has  been  described. " 
"Room?"  I  said.  "Why  what  do  you  mean,  Professor? 
There's  all  the  continent." 

"Ah ! "  he  said,  "you  do  not  see  the  point  of  my  question. 
I  mean  room  in  the  particular  territory  where  the  fighting 
is  going  on.  I  see  in  this  telegram  from  London  that  the 
army  of  the  North  has  made  a  march  to  the  westward  of 
two  hundred  and  forty  miles.  Now,"  he  went  on,  "the 
place  is  only  ninety  miles  across." 

I  found  myself  as  perplexed  as  the  Orientalist  himself. 
Fortunately,  in  an  adjoining  lecture-room  there  was  a  wall 
map  showing  the  two  American  continents.  The  Pro 
fessor,  steering  me  to  the  map,  placed  his  finger  triumph 
antly  on  the  Isthmus  of  Panama.  "There,"  he  said, 
"are  your  American  forces.  It  is  there,  as  I  understand 
the  matter,  that  the  North  Americans  and  the  South 
Americans  are  fighting  out  this  contest.  Now  how  could 
one  of  the  armies  march  two  hundred  and  forty  miles  east 
to  west?" 

The  perplexity  that  had  befogged  the  learned  Orientalist 
was  for  some  time,  at  least,  shared  by  not  a  few  of  the 
Germans  who  depended  for  their  information  upon  the 
Allgemeine  Zeitung  or  the  Hanoveraner  Nachricht.  In 
these  papers  as  in  the  German  journals  generally,  the 
news  writers  had,  for  convenience  or  for  compactness  of 
expression,  in  place  of  using  the  longer  descriptive  phrases, 
die  Amerikaner  der  Vereinigten  Staaten  or  des  Nor  dens  and 
die  Amerikaner  der  Confederirten  Staaten  or  des  Siidens, 
written  simply  die  Nord- Amerikaner  and  die  Sud- Ameri 
kaner,  and  the  conclusion  was  natural  that  the  two  con 
tinents  of  the  Western  Hemisphere  were  fighting  it  out 
on  the  Isthmus  of  Panama.  I  did  what  I  could  to  give  to 
the  particular  scholar  who  had  come  to  me  for  information, 


News  of  War  191 

and  later  oO  a  number  of  others  who  were  sufficiently 
interested  to  submit  more  or  less  similar  inquiries,  a  correct 
statement  of  the  actual  character  of  the  combatants  and 
of  the  nature  of  the  issue  that  they  were  fighting  out. 
But  they  were  frequently  disposed  to  be  incredulous  and 
to  doubt  whether  the  young  Yankee  really  understood  the 
matter. 

In  this  connection,  I  may  recall  a  rather  characteristic 
happening  in  our  student  life,  the  actual  date  of  which  was 
some  months  farther  on.  In  the  spring  or  early  summer 
of  1862,  General  McClellan  had  brought  his  army,  after 
the  discouraging  Peninsula  campaign,  to  Harrison's 
Landing,  where  the  troops  were  under  the  protection  of 
the  gunboats  of  James  River.  The  successful  battle  of 
Malvern  Hill  had  brought  some  little  gleam  of  consolation 
after  the  long  series  of  fights  through  the  swamps  of  the 
Chickahominy,  fights  which  while  always  creditable  to 
the  pluck  and  persistence  of  the  Yankee  troops  had  not 
brought  any  prestige  to  the  Yankee  commander  and  had 
resulted  from  day  to  day  in  the  loss  of  ground,  men,  and 
supplies.  Even  Malvern  could,  however,  not  relieve  the 
North  from  its  bitter  disappointment  and  from  its  serious 
apprehension.  Great  expectations  had  been  based  upon 
the  generalship  of  the  "young  Napoleon,"  and  the  fact  that, 
with  a  magnificently  appointed  army  at  his  command,  he 
had,  after  being  within  reach  of  the  Confederate  capital, 
been  driven  back  and  defeated,  was  something  that  the 
North  was  not  yet  ready  to  understand.  It  seemed  as  if 
further  disasters  might  be  expected.  In  place  of  preparing 
for  further  aggressive  campaigns,  McClellan  was  giving 
his  time  to  writing  letters  of  criticism  on  the  Administra 
tion.  About  these  letters,  however,  and  about  the  other 
details  of  that  anxious  spring  I  knew  only  later.  The  one 
thing  that  was  clear  to  Americans  abroad  was  that  the  first 
carefully  planned  campaign,  the  campaign  which  would, 


192  Bogus  News  [1862 

as  had  been  hoped,  bring  the  war  practically  to  a  close, 
had  failed  and  that  the  end  of  the  war  seemed  to  be  as 
far  distant  as  ever. 

It  was  at  the  time  of  this  serious  disappointment, 
trouble,  and  apprehension  that  the  Confederate  financial 
agents  abroad,  the  Erlangers  of  Frankfort,  with  their 
correspondents  in  London,  planned  a  coup  which  should 
not  only  bring  prestige  (if  but  momentary)  to  the  Con 
federacy  but  proceeds  to  themselves.  It  was  the  routine  at 
that  time  for  the  regular  liners  from  New  York  and  from 
Boston  to  touch  at  Cape  Clear  on  the  southern  point  of 
Ireland  long  enough  to  send  despatches  or  telegrams  to 
London,  which  reached  the  newspaper  offices  often  twenty- 
four  hours  earlier  than  would  have  been  the  case  if  the 
news  had  been  held  until  the  arrival  of  the  steamers  at 
Queenstown  or  Liverpool.  The  Erlangers  and  their  confed 
erates  arranged  with  the  telegraph  operator  at  Cape  Clear 
in  such  fashion  as  to  make  it  worth  his  while  to  be  dis 
missed.  They  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  operator  material 
which  he  was  to  wire  up  to  London.  The  message  was  to 
be  sent  with  the  report  that  the  steamer  from  New  York 
had  made  an  exceptionally  quick  passage,  reaching  Ire 
land,  say,  twenty-four  hours  before  she  was  expected.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  steamer  of  that  particular  week  was 
twenty-four  hours  late.  The  bankers  had,  therefore,  two 
days'  time  within  which  to  carry  on  the  speculations  based 
upon  their  bogus  news. 

The  news  itself  was  to  the  effect  that  McClellan  had 
surrendered  at  Harrison's  Landing  his  entire  army  with 
the  exception  of  the  corps  of  General  Heintzelman.  This 
general,  a  tough  old  West  Pointer,  was  one  of  the  corps 
commanders  who  had  succeeded  in  retaining  the  confidence 
of  the  North.  The  detail  that  he  had  succeeded  in  cutting 
his  way  through  the  lines  of  investment  was  added  in  order 
to  give  plausibility  to  the  general  statement.  This  news, 


1862]  A  Class-Room  Row  193 

if  true,  foreshadowed,  of  course,  the  early  close  of  the  war 
and  the  independence  of  the  Confederacy.  It  was  printed 
in  the  London  Times  without  comment.  I  learned  later 
that  the  London  News,  which  was  favourable  to  the  cause  of 
the  North,  at  once  questioned  its  authenticity.  As  before 
stated,  however,  it  was  the  Times  from  which  the  Con 
tinent  secured  its  information.  Three  hundred  of  us 
students  were  gathered  that  May  morning  in  the  big 
chemical  lecture  room  waiting  for  Professor  Wohler.  A 
long  Englishman  came  into  the  hall  waving  a  London 
Times  over  his  head  and  calling  out  in  simple  English  and 
purely  for  the  information  of  the  small  group  of  Yankees 
in  the  hall,  "Your  damned  Republic  has  gone  up!"  A 
long  Bostonian  sitting  near  me  (he  went  home  the  month 
following  to  take  service  in  a  Massachusetts  regiment) 
was  promptly  on  his  feet  telling  the  Englishman  that  the 
statement  was  false  and  that  if  he  repeated  it,  he,  the 
Bostonian,  would  break  his  head. 

An  Englishman  is  not  usually  deterred  from  maintain 
ing  an  opinion  by  a  little  threat  of  that  kind,  and  the  state 
ment  was  promptly  repeated.  The  long  Bostonian  went 
for  the  Englishman  and  in  a  second  every  Yankee  and 
every  Englishman  in  the  room  were  in  conflict. 

A  number  of  the  Germans  took  part.  The  mass  of 
combatants  being  divided  as  before  indicated,  the  Prus 
sians  were  fighting  on  the  side  of  the  English,  and  in  part 
at  least,  the  Bavarians  and  the  Saxons  were  with  the 
Prussians.  On  our  side  were  the  Hanoverians,  the  Bruns- 
wickers,  the  Austrians,  and  a  few  of  the  Saxons.  Not  all 
of  the  Germans  took  hold,  as  most  of  them  were  timorous 
with  the  use  of  their  fists.  Enough  fellows  were,  however  y 
engaged  to  make  it  a  very  pretty  fight  as  it  stood.  The 
benches  were  knocked  endwise,  and  as  the  floors  had 
apparently  not  been  swept  since  the  Napoleonic  wars,  the 
dust  hung  in  thick  clouds  over  the  room,  giving  quite  an 

13 


194  A  Class-Room  Row  [1862 

Homeric  effect  to  the  combat.  Very  early  in  the  conflict, 
I  was  myself  knocked  down  by  a  well-directed  blow  of  a 
skilled  English  pugilist.  I  lay  under  a  bench,  partially 
stunned  but  with  enough  consciousness  to  retain  my  interest 
in  the  proceedings. 

The  old  Hofrath  came  in  and  began  deprecatingly, 
"Aber,  meine  Hen 'en ,"  but  "meine  Herren"  were  too  busy 
and  paid  no  attention  to  his  protest.  He  disappeared  and 
in  a  few  minutes  the  "poodles"  (the  University  police 
men)  made  their  appearance.  The  principal  combatants 
promptly  jumped  out  of  the  windows,  the  lecture-room 
being  conveniently  on  the  ground  floor.  We  little  fellows, 
who  had  been  knocked  down  or  who  did  not  have  time  to 
reach  the  windows,  were  carried  off  to  the  University 
Career  in  order  that  the  majesty  of  the  law  might  be 
avenged.  I  was  imprisoned  over  night  and  was  fined  a 
thaler  for  the  privilege  of  being  knocked  down  by  an 
Englishman.  Two  or  three  days  afterwards,  in  company 
with  the  other  Americans,  I  had  my  revenge.  The 
London  Times  was  obliged  to  admit  (the  delayed  steamer 
having  arrived  with  the  corrected  news)  that  it  had  been 
swindled  by  false  telegrams.  We  Yankees  paraded  the 
streets  and  smashed  as  many  English  windows  as  we  could 
identify,  regardless  of  " poodles'*  and  of  Career.  Shortly 
afterwards,  the  group  was  so  far  thinned  by  departures 
for  the  war  that  the  two  or  three  of  us  who  were  left  were 
obliged  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  still  irate  and  very 
much  anti- American  English  colony.  I  made  renewed 
application  for  permission  to  come  home.  It  became 
increasingly  difficult  to  concentrate  on  laboratory  work 
while  youngsters  of  my  generation  were  fighting  to  main 
tain  the  nation.  The  permission  finally  came  to  me  in 
August,  1862.  Before  that  time,  however,  there  was  a 
further  experience  in  my  student  life  which  may  be 
recorded. 


A  Village  Ball  195 

With  the  close  of  the  lectures  in  the  beginning  of  July, 
1862,  a  group  of  us  planned  for  a  vacation  trip  through 
the  mountains  of  the  Hartz.  This  region  is  peculiarly  the 
domain  of  Gottingen,  and  from  the  earliest  days  of  the 
University  the  students  have  considered  the  Hartz 
Mountains  almost  in  the  light  of  private  property.  The 
tramping  party  as  made  up  comprised  the  American  S., 
from  our  Heinze  household,  a  Russian  of  German  origin 
named  Wrangel  (I  believe  he  claimed  to  be  a  descendant 
of  the  famous  old  discoverer  of  that  name),  a  Cossack 
from  the  Crimea  called  Hussakowski,  a  Frenchman, 
Christofle,  the  son  of  a  wealthy  Paris  jeweller  and,  there 
fore,  the  financial  magnate  of  the  party,  my  Polish  chum 
von  Kowalski,  and  myself.  The  route  led  out  through  the 
village  of  Weender,  to  the  old  bishop's  capital  Osnabriick, 
and  in  the  circle  around  the  north-eastern  circumference  of 
the  mountains  back  over  the  summit  of  the  Brocken;  the 
trip  covered,  I  think,  about  ten  days.  One  of  the  even 
ings  was  marked  by  a  conviviality.  A  little  late  in  the  day 
we  tramped  into  a  village  which  had  been  celebrating  a 
shooting  festival.  The  people  in  the  single  inn  were  so 
absorbed  with  the  excitement  of  the  contest  and  with  the 
preparations  for  the  ball  that  was  to  follow,  that  we  found 
it  difficult  to  secure  any  attention  for  ourselves.  We 
finally  took  possession,  first  of  the  kitchen  and  then  of  a 
couple  of  attic  rooms  that  could  by  courtesy  be  called 
bedrooms,  and  cared  for  ourselves.  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  have  in  my  knapsack  a  pair  of  slippers,  and  on 
the  strength  of  this  equipment  for  the  ball  I  proposed 
to  join  in  the  dance.  The  others  were  doubtful  about 
dancing  in  tramping  boots,  but  agreed  to  accept  me  as  the 
representative  of  frivolous  youth.  The  victors  in  the 
shooting  match,  distinguished  by  the  length  of  their  white 
feathers  and  by  prizes  hung  about  their  necks,  had  the 
first  choice  of  the  village  maidens.  The  floor  of  the  ball- 


196  A  Village  Ball  [1862 

room  had  a  plentiful  sprinkling  of  sawdust,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  say  for  what  purpose.  The  men  present,  the 
dancers  as  well  as  the  others,  did  not  permit  the  'functions 
of  the  ballroom  to  interfere  with  their  pipes  and  the 
atmosphere  of  the  room  soon  became  a  dense  mixture  of 
smoke,  sawdust,  and  human  breath. 

The  first  dances  were  naturally  monopolised  by  the 
village  heroes  but  the  girls  soon  began  to  cast  glances  at 
the  strangers  who  were  for  the  moment  playing  the  part 
of  wall-flowers.  I  dashed  in  on  a  venture,  but  on  my  way 
across  the  room  to  the  girl  of  my  choice  I  was  taken  pos 
session  of  by  a  strapping  damsel  a  head  taller  than  myself 
who  had  for  the  time  been  abandoned  by  her  swain.  The 
dance  began  and  I  was  carried  along  with  very  little 
opportunity  for  individuality  of  action.  My  stalwart 
partner  fairly  swung  me  off  the  ground  until  I  was  dizzy 
and  she  replaced  me  in  a  dusty  corner  only  when  she  had 
had  enough  of  the  dance.  My  taller  companions,  oblivi 
ous  of  their  walking  boots,  speedily  joined  the  circle  and 
naturally  enough  were  on  the  whole  preferred  by  the 
damsels  to  the  swains  they  could  see  every  day  of  the  week. 
The  latter  began  to  put  on  scowling  looks  and  to  put  out 
shoulders  and  feet  in  the  way  of  the  strangers.  Ugly 
mutterings  could  be  heard  and  there  seemed  to  be  a  fair 
chance  for  a  row.  At  this  point,  the  Cossack  sacrificed 
himself  (at  least  that  was  the  term  that  he  used  in  describ 
ing  the  matter  afterwards)  for  the  good  of  the  party.  He 
invited  the  peasants  to  join  him  in  a  Schnaps.  The  room 
was  promptly  cleared  of  the  most  troublesome  of  the  men, 
and  as  their  absence  continued  for  some  little  time  it 
may  be  inferred  that  there  were  several  "Schnaps"  I 
know  that  at  midnight  when  our  girls  reported  that  they 
must  go  home,  and  we  looked  up  our  comrades,  we  were 
obliged  to  carry  the  Cossack  up-stairs. 

We  had  a  final  word  of  caution  from  the  landlord  to  the 


i862]  The  Hartz  197 

effect  that  it  might  be  wise  to  go  away  early  in  the  morn 
ing.  He  had  heard  threats  of  breaking  the  heads  of  the 
impudent  strangers.  "And,  meine  Hen  en,  as  you  are 
leaving  early,  you  will  not  mind  making  payment  now." 
The  plea  was  a  reasonable  one  and  payment  was  made 
which  included  in  addition  to  allowance  for  beds  that  were 
not  found,  a  charge  for  what  seemed  to  some  of  us  an 
inordinate  amount  of  Schnaps.  We  did  get  under  way, 
having  been  roused  up  by  the  landlord  for  the  purpose,  at 
an  unearthly  hour  in  the  morning,  waiting  for  our  break 
fast  coffee  until  we  got  to  the  next  village.  We  were  all 
fairly  sleepy  and  Hussakowski  was  actually  rebellious. 
He  threatened  to  stay  behind,  saying  that  he  had  nothing 
to  dread  from  the  fellows  that  he  had  treated  so  well.  It 
was  only  the  dancers  whose  heads  were  going  to  be 
broken. 

The  woods  on  the  mountainsides  of  the  Hartz  were  more 
picturesque  than  those  of  the  Thuringer-Wald.  The  trees 
impressed  me  as  larger  and  the  whole  construction  of  the 
region  was  on  a  grander  scale.  The  forestry  was,  however, 
equally  scientific  and  while  there  was  an  appearance  of 
wildness,  the  region  was  under  perfect  woodland  cultiva 
tion.  With  my  later  knowledge  of  the  fearful  waste  and 
destruction  of  the  American  forests,  I  can  realise  now,  as 
even  in  those  days  I  had  begun  to  appreciate,  how  fright 
ful  has  been  the  stupidity  with  which  the  natural  forestry 
resources  of  our  great  domain  have  been  squandered.  The 
most  incomprehensible  and  aggravating  feature  in  the 
progress  of  the  centuries  is  the  apparent  inability  of  one 
generation  of  men  to  secure  in  the  management  of  their 
own  special  problems  the  full  advantage  of  the  experience 
of  their  predecessors  who  have  had  to  do  with  similar 
problems.  After  a  sojourn  on  the  globe  of  many  thousand 
years  (the  scientists  continuing  to  differ  as  to  the  exact 
time),  mankind  ought  certainly  by  this  date  to  have  made 


198  The  Brocken  [1862 

better  progress  in  the  solution  of  the  elementary  problems 
of  existence. 

I  abandoned  my  party  before  the  close  of  the  trip, 
having  waiting  for  me  certain  laboratory  work  that  I 
wanted  to  complete  before  the  final  closing  of  the  building 
for  the  summer.  The  separation  took  place  on  the  top 
of  the  Brocken.  There  were  no  parting  ceremonies,  as  at 
the  hour  in  question  my  friends  were  sleeping  the  sleep 
of  the  tired  pedestrian.  I  got  up  at  dawn  with  the  pur 
pose  of  reaching  Gottingen,  at  a  distance  of  thirty-five 
miles,  before  dark.  I  had  a  map  and  also  had  a  general 
knowledge  of  the  contour  of  the  mountain  and  started  off 
with  a  fair  measure  of  confidence.  Before,  however,  I  had 
covered  more  than  half  a  mile  from  the  summit,  a  heavy 
morning  fog  set  in,  confusing  all  the  outlines  and  rendering 
it  nearly  impracticable  to  trace  the  path  through  the 
boulders  and  the  tree  clumps.  There  was  nothing  to  do, 
if  I  were  to  avoid  the  more  immediate  risk  of  the  precipice 
or  the  wider  chance  of  a  series  of  divergences  from  my 
direction,  but  to  sit  down  and  wait  for  the  passing  of 
the  fog.  These  fogs  on  the  Brocken  sometimes  endure 
through  a  whole  twenty-lour  hours,  and  I  began  to  be 
rather  doubtful  as  to  the  prospects  of  completing  my  day's 
journey  or  of  even  finding  a  place  for  breakfast. 

Fortunately,  however,  the  sprites  of  the  Brocken  proved 
considerate  this  particular  morning  to  the  stray  Yankee. 
I  had  not  waited  more  than  half  an  hour  before  the  breeze 
from  below  began  to  roll  the  masses  of  mist  upwards.  The 
peculiarity  of  the  breezes  about  the  Brocken  is  that  they 
frequently  appear  to  come  from  every  side  of  the  mountain 
at  once.  The  effect  of  the  rolling  upward  of  the  white 
masses  of  mist  was  as  if  great  fleecy  blankets  were  being 
turned  upwards  towards  the  centre.  For  the  moment, 
as  the  curves  rounded  over  upon  my  own  head,  the  mist 
was  denser  than  ever.  I  was  really  in  the  middle  of  a 


The  Witches'  Dance  199 

mountain  cloud.  Then  the  cloud  passed  onward  and 
upward.  I  could  see  below  the  clearing  flanks  of  the 
mountain  gleams  of  sunshine  in  the  distant  valleys. 
Above,  the  white  was  becoming  darker  as  the  mass  be 
came  more  dense.  For  a  few  moments,  the  great  cloud 
cap  hung  over  the  crest  of  the  Brocken.  Then  the  winds 
from  the  four  sides  took  hold  of  the  cap  as  if  at  its  four 
corners  and  began  to  whirl  it  around  in  a  majestic  circle. 
The  whirl  became  swifter  and  the  mass  began  to  break. 
As  it  spread,  there  came  up  from  the  corners  what  ap 
peared  to  be  great  columns  of  mist  reaching  up  from  the 
mountain  towards  the  heavens  like  gigantic  waterspouts. 
These  mist  columns  waltzed  over  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
first  slowly  and  then,  as  the  whirl  of  the  winds  increased 
in  velocity,  with  swifter  gyrations.  I  was  looking  (from 
a  point  a  little  too  close  to  secure  the  full  effect)  at  what 
has  been  so  often  described  as  the  Hexentanz  or  Waltz 
of  the  Brocken  Witches.  The  completeness  of  the  pic 
ture  depends  evidently  upon  the  special  action  of  the 
winds  of  one  day  or  another. 

Finally,  the  big  columns  began  to  become  translucent 
as  the  beams  of  the  morning  sun  made  their  way  through 
the  masses;  the  "witches"  were  dissipated  into  space  or 
gathered  up  into  the  heavens  above,  the  mountain  top 
shone  out  clearly  defined  in  the  sunlight  while  the  same 
beams  dispersed  the  darkness  from  the  valleys  below  so 
that  from  my  point  of  vantage  I  could  see  the  spires  rising 
over  the  tree  tops  from  the  different  village  centres  along 
my  route.  My  knapsack  was  resumed  and  with  a  rush 
downward  to  make  up  for  lost  time,  I  made  my  way  to  the 
foot  of  the  mountain.  I  reached  Gottingen  at  about  half- 
past  seven  in  the  evening  and  kept  my  appointment  in 
Wohler's  laboratory  at  eight  o'clock  on  the  following 
morning. 


X 
"War  Times 

MY  information  concerning  the  exciting  events  at 
tending  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War  in  1861 
came  chiefly  through  the  letters  from  my  father. 
He  found  time,  notwithstanding  the  anxious  responsibili 
ties  of  a  publishing  business  and  a  full  measure  of  loyal 
service  given  to  the  organisation  of  regiments  and  to 
other  public  work  of  the  time,  to  give  me  from  week 
to  week  comprehensive  reports  in  regard  to  the  things 
that  were  happening  and  the  results  that  were  hoped 
for.  My  father  possessed  the  quality  of  optimism,  a 
quality  that  served  him  in  good  stead  during  those  four 
years  of  trouble  and  anxieties,  anxieties  which  had  to  do 
not  only  with  the  fate  of  the  Republic,  but  with  the  safety 
of  his  own  business  interests  ^and  the  support  of  his 
increasing  family. 

When  it  became  evident  that  the  Lincoln  Government 
had  to  do  not  simply  with  a  phase  of  political  antagonism 
or  with  a  local  insurrection,  but  with  a  great  war,  I 
had  written  for  permission  to  return  home.  A  number 
of  the  American  students  in  Gottingen  had  already  gone 
back  with  the  purpose  of  taking  part  in  the  struggle  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  Republic.  The  majority  of  these 
were  Northerners,  but  the  group  included  some  active 
and  patriotic  men  from  the  South  whose  duty  to  maintain 

-200 


[1861-1862]  War  Times  201 

the  independence  of  their  several  states  seemed  to  them 
to  be  just  as  assured.  My  father  wrote  that  there  would 
be  no  advantage  in  my  immediate  return,  and  reminded 
me  that  I  was  but  seventeen  years  old,  and  that  the  legal 
limit  for  service  in  the  army  was  eighteen.  He  said 
further,  however,  that  the  publishing  business  was,  as 
might  naturally  be  expected,  discouraging,  and  that  it 
might  later  be  necessary  to  recall  me  on  the  ground  of  the 
difficulty  of  securing  from  the  sale  of  books  during  the 
excitement  of  civil  war,  a  sufficient  income  to  support 
the  home  circle.  He  was  good  enough  to  add  that  my 
drafts  had  been  very  moderate,  and  that  he  wanted  me  to 
get  what  benefits  there  might  be  from  my  University 
work  the  beginnings  of  which  had,  of  course,  been  duly 
reported  to  him. 

I  had  been  able  to  keep  my  expenditure  in  Gottingen 
within  the  amount  of  three  hundred  dollars  a  year;  I  had 
found  it  practicable  with  the  amount  named  to  arrange 
for  a  fairly  satisfactory  method  of  living.  The  total 
outlay  in  Berlin  had  naturally  been  laiger  not  only  because 
of  the  greater  cost  of  board  in  a  metropolis,  but  because  of 
the  payments  to  the  oculist.  I  could  only  obey  the  pater 
nal  instructions,  and  take  hold  of  the  University  work 
before  me  with  all  the  more  energy  because  there  might 
at  any  time  be  necessity  for  bringing  it  to  a  close. 

It  is  probable  that  if  the  Atlantic  cable  had  at  that 
time  been  in  existence  so  that  we  could  have  received 
daily  news  of  the  events  or  of  the  rumours  of  events  at  the 
seat  of  war,  it  would  have  been  still  more  difficult  for  the 
little  group  of  Americans  in  the  Gottingen  lecture-rooms 
to  give  thought  to  their  work  as  students.  News  came  to 
us,  however,  as  explained,  at  intervals,  and  notwithstanding 
our  anxieties  we  were  able  to  carry  on  with  some  measure 
of  concentration  the  things  more  immediately  at  hand. 
The  keen  interest  in  the  preservation  of  the  life  of  our 


202  War  Times  [i86i- 

nation  was  naturally,  however,  not  lost  sight  of,  and  in 
fact  this  interest  gathered  strength  from  month  to  month 
as  we  realised  what  sacrifices  of  life  and  of  resources  were 
being  made  by  our  friends  at  home. 

In  December  of  the  preceding  year  (1861),  we  had 
learned  of  the  affair  of  the  Trent,  an  incident  which  came 
very  near  to  bringing  about  war  between  Great  Britain 
and  the  United  States.  Such  a  war  would,  of  course, 
accompanied  by  British  intervention,  have  meant  the 
immediate  recognition  of  the  Confederacy  and  the  estab 
lishment  of  its  independence.  The  navy  of  the  Northern 
States,  weak  in  fighting  vessels,  and  made  up  of  all  kinds 
of  more  or  less  hastily  improvised  cruisers,  was  strung 
along  three  thousand  miles  of  coast  in  the  attempt  (which 
in  1 86 1  was  only  more  or  less  effective)  to  maintain  a 
blockade  and  to  prevent  the  South  from  securing  ammuni 
tion  and  other  supplies  from1  Great  Britain.  The  English 
Navy  of  the  time  would  have  found  little  difficulty  in 
securing  control  of  the  harbours  of  the  chief  seaports ;  and 
with  the  aid  of  English  ships,  the  Army  of  Virginia  could 
doubtless  have  isolated  and  captured  Washington,  and 
the  North  would  have  had  no  alternative  but  to  accept 
terms  of  separation  and  to  make  peace  on  the  best  terms 
that  could  be  secured.  For  a  time  at  least,  England 
would  have  had  an  easy  triumph;  the  regrets  would  have 
come  later. 

The  affair  of  the  Trent  belongs  to  history  and  the  details 
are  fairly  well  known  to  intelligent  readers  of  this  genera 
tion  who  have  interested  themselves  at  all  in  the  events 
of  the  period.  The  Confederate  Government  had  ap 
pointed  Mr.  Slidell  of  Louisiana  as  special  envoy  to  France 
and  Mr.  Mason  of  Virginia  as  special  envoy  to  Great 
Britain.  It  was  the  expectation  that  these  envoys  ought 
to  be  able,  in  connection  with  a  successful  progress  of 
the  war,  to  secure  at  no  distant  date  the  recognition  of 


1862]  The  Affair  of  the  "  Trent "  203 

the  Confederacy  and  possibly  also  to  secure  practical  aid 
in  the  maintaining  of  its  independence.  The  two  com 
missioners,  escaping  from  Charleston  by  a  blockade 
runner,  had  taken  passage  from  Jamaica  to  Liverpool  by 
the  British  packet  steamer  Trent.  Their  movements  had 
been  traced  and  Captain  John  Wilkes,  commanding  the 
United  States  frigate  San  Jacinto,  lay  in  wait  for  the 
Trent  and  stopped,  her  on  the  high  seas  at  some  miles 
distant  from  Kingston.  The  envoys  with  their  luggage 
were  taken  out  and  were  carried  into  Boston.  The  Trent, 
with  a  very  indignant  captain  and  passengers,  proceeded 
on  her  way  to  England.  England  was,  not  unnaturally, 
brought  into  a  great  ebullition  of  indignation.  Punch 
represents  John  Bull  as  a  very  angry  citizen  growling  to 
the  Yankee:  "You  do  what  is  right  or  I'll  blow  you  out  of 
the  water !  No  shuffling,  or  I  will  put  the  matter  into  the 
hands  of  my  lawyers,  Messrs.  Whitmore  and  Armstrong. " 
Another  picture  represents  Britain  standing  behind  the 
gun  "waiting  for  an  answer."  The  answer  referred  to  is 
the  reply  from  the  United  States  Government  to  the 
demand  that  was,  of  course,  promptly  made  by  Russell 
and  Palmerston,  for  the  surrender  of  the  envoys.  The 
Dublin  paper,  the  Irish  Nation,  with  reference  to  the 
expected  war  with  America  says :  "The  forces  of  England 
will  find  in  their  front  desperate  men  such  as  those  who 
crushed  the  British  ranks  at  Fontenoy  and  Limerick. 
Woe  to  England!" 

The  "waiting"  for  the  reply  continues  (in  the  absence 
of  any  cable  communication)  for  a  series  of  weeks. 
Punch  has  a  further  picture  of  Columbia  sitting  on  a 
cannon  in  doubt.  In  her  right  hand  she  holds  the  dove 
and  in  the  left  the  eagle.  "Which  shall  I  send?"  The 
references  in  the  Life  of  Prince  Albert,  confirmed  in  the 
Life  of  Queen  Victoria,  make  clear  the  seriousness  of 
the  issue  that  arose  in  regard  to  this  matter  of  the  Trent 


204  English  Opinion 

between  Palmerston  and  Russell  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
Queen,  acting  under  the  influence  of  Prince  Albert,  on  the 
other.  There  can  be  no  question  but  that  the  incident 
was  welcomed  by  Palmerston  and  Russell  and  by  the 
group  of  Englishmen  of  whom  they  were  the  leaders.  It 
gave  the  opportunity  for  which  these  men  had  been  hoping 
and  waiting.  They  desired  the  breaking  asunder  of  the 
United  States.  They  were  entirely  unsympathetic  with 
the  idea  that  there  was  any  value  to  Great  Britain  or 
to  the  world  in  the  continued  existence  of  the  great  Re 
public.  They  felt  a  warm  and  not  unnatural  sympathy 
with  the  South  as  the  weaker  of  the  two  contestants, 
failing  to  realise  the  seriousness  of  the  military  task  of  the 
North  or  to  understand  how  largely  the  disparity  in 
population  of  the  two  sections  was  offset  by  the  fact  that 
the  Northern  army  as  an  invading  force  had  a  much  more 
difficult  series  of  problems  to  solve  than  those  that  came 
upon  the  Southerners,  defending  (in  the  larger  number  of 
cases  behind  entrenchments)  their  own  territory.  The 
Southerners  were  nearly  always  within  reach  of  their  base, 
while  the  greater  the  successes  secured  by  any  invad 
ing  Northern  army,  the  longer,  of  necessity,  the  line  of 
communication  that  must  be  defended  and  the  smaller  the 
proportion  of  its  force  that  could  be  available  at  the  point 
of  contact  for  the  fight. 

The  comparison  of  the  numbers  of  the  Northern  army 
and  of  the  forces  that  the  South  had  available  nearly 
always  fails  to  take  into  account  the  importance  of  the 
service  rendered  to  the  Southern  armies  by  the  negroes. 
Practically  all  of  the  work  required  for  the  building  of 
entrenchments,  and  for  the  opening  and  repairing  of  rail 
roads  and  of  waggon-roads  was  furnished  by  the  negroes. 
The  work  of  transportation,  that  is  to  say  of  the  bringing 
of  supplies  from  the  depots  to  the  front,  also  came  into 
their  hands,  but  these  hands  always,  of  course,  had  the 


i86i]       Palmerston  and  Louis  Napoleon        205 

direction  of  the  heads  of  white  officers.  The  similar 
service  required  on  the  Northern  side  of  the  line  for  en 
trenchments  and  for  transportation  work  was  given  by 
enlisted  men  who  were  always,  of  course,  counted  in  with 
the  forces  of  the  invading  armies.  An  allowance  of  a  good 
many  thousand  men  must  be  made  in  order  to  offset  the 
direct  contribution  rendered,  not,  of  course,  with  any 
enthusiasm  but  under  stern  compulsion,  by  the  slaves  in 
furthering  the  campaigns  of  the  Southern  armies,  cam 
paigns  the  purpose  of  which  was  to  maintain  and  to  ex 
tend  the  system  of  slavery.  The  interest  of  Palmerston 
and  his  associates  in  the  destruction  of  the  Republic  was 
shared  and  to  some  extent  excited  by  Louis  Napoleon. 
The  French  Emperor  had  his  own  ambitions  in  the  West, 
ambitions  which  took  shape  a  year  later  in  the  ill-advised 
expedition  to  Mexico. 

The  despatch  demanding  the  surrender  of  the  envoys 
was,  in  accordance  with  the  usual  routine,  drafted  by 
Palmerston  and  submitted  to  the  Queen  for  her  approval. 
Prince  Albert,  who  had  for  years  acted  as  the  Queen's 
private  secretary  and  who  evidently  possessed  her  full 
confidence  and  exercised  over  her  decisions  a  continued 
influence,  was  already  a  very  ill  man.  It  is  possible  that 
he  did  not  himself  realise  the  gravity  of  his  malady.  It 
is  certain  that  there  was  at  the  moment  no  serious  appre 
hension  for  his  life  on  the  part  of  London  or  of  the  British 
public  generally. 

The  despatch  as  drafted  by  Palmerston  was  one  that 
could  hardly  have  been  accepted  by  the  government  of  a 
self-respecting  nation  and  it  seems  probable  that  it  was 
intended  to  embitter  the  issue  and  to  bring  about  war. 
All  the  records  that  have  come  into  print  later  tend  to 
confirm  this  view.  The  despatch  was  read  to  Albert  by 
the  Queen.  His  word  is  reported  as  having  been  in 
substance  as  follows:  "This  despatch  means  war.  It 


206          The  Influence  of  Prince  Albert         [1861 

means  that  the  force  of  Great  Britain  would  be  used  to 
establish  the  existence  as  a  nation  of  the  Southern  Con 
federacy,  a  state  which  according  to  the  utterance  of  its 
own  leaders  "•  —the  Prince  was  referring  to  Alexander  H. 
Stephens  and  to  Robert  Toombs — "is  to  be  founded  on 
slavery.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  British  people  is  pre 
pared  to  approve  of  any  such  policy.  I  do  not  believe 
that  the  Queen  of  England  is  willing  to  be  identified  with 
such  an  action."  The  Queen  was  quite  ready  in  this 
matter,  as  she  had  been  in  previous  matters  calling  for 
her  decision,  to  be  guided  by  the  counsel  of  Prince  Albert. 
A  new  despatch  was  worded  by  the  Prince  and,  at  his 
dictation,  written  out  by  the  Queen.  It  is,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  suggested  in  the  Life  of  Prince  Albert  that  he  con 
sidered  it  undesirable  to  have  Palmerston  irritated  by  the 
sight  of  his,  Albert's,  script.  It  was,  however,  doubtless 
the  case  that  the  Queen  desired  to  spare  Albert,  already 
weakened  by  his  approaching  illness,  from  any  unnecessary 
labour.  The  purpose  of  the  despatch,  as  worded  by 
Albert  and  approved  and  written  by  the  Queen,  was  to 
give  to  Lincoln's  Administration  an  opportunity  of  accept 
ing,  without  loss  of  self-respect  or  of  prestige  with  their 
own  people,  the  demand  of  England.  When  the  reworded 
despatch  came  back  to  Palmerston,  he  recognised  the 
phrases  of  the  Prince  although  these  were  presented  in  the 
handwriting  of  the  Queen.  He  was  indignant  on  more 
grounds  than  one.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that  he  had 
come  into  conflict  with  the  princely  adviser  of  the  Queen 
and  it  is  evident  that  he  had  very  much  at  heart  his  own 
project  for  furthering  the  dismembering  of  the  American 
Republic.  The  thought  that  this  opportunity,  which 
had  been  brought  about  through  Yankee  folly,  was  not  to 
be  taken  advantage  of,  was  to  him  a  keen  disappointment. 
His  indignation  got  the  better  of  his  discretion  and  he 
allowed  the  statement  to  leak  out  to  the  "man  in  the 


i86i]  Palmerston  and  Albert  207 

street  "  that,  not  for  the  first  time,  the  policy  of  a  British 
Minister  was  being  interfered  with  by  the  influence  of  a 
foreign  prince." 

The  groups  in  Fleet  Street  and  in  the  Strand  as  well  as 
the  club  circles  in  Mayfair  were  quite  ready  on  such 
an  issue  to  take  sides  cordially  with  the  British  Minister. 
One  of  the  reports  states  that  a  mob  surged  westward  and 
broke  windows  in  the  wing  of  Buckingham  Palace  then 
occupied  by  the  Prince.  Palmerston  threatened  to  resign, 
but  the  Queen  held  firm,  as  she  always  did  when  she  was 
sure  she  was  right,  and  Palmerston  backed  down.  Some 
days  later,  the  demand  for  the  surrender  of  the  envoys, 
framed  in  the  message  as  worded  by  Albert,  made  its  way 
to  Washington  and  was  promptly  assented  to  by  Lincoln 
and  Seward.  The  action  of  Captain  Wilkes  was  dis 
avowed  as  that  of  a  subordinate  acting  without  instruc 
tions  and  Messrs.  Mason  and  Slidell  were  duly  delivered 
across  the  ocean  and  took  up  their  more  or  less  unofficial 
situations  as  representatives  of  the  Confederacy  in  Lon 
don  and  in  Paris.  The  Confederacy  is  said  to  have  made 
a  mistake  in  replacing  the  first  Commissioner,  Judge 
Mann,  a  forcible  and  tactful  gentleman,  with  Judge 
Mason.  The  latter  was  disposed  to  be  arrogant  and 
bumptious  and  he  failed  to  make  friends. 

In  the  Life  of  Lincoln,  we  have  some  light  on  the  other 
side  of  the  correspondence.  It  is  reported  that  Mr. 
Seward,  the  Secretary  of  State,  was  in  favour  of  the 
immediate  surrender  of  the  envoys  in  advance  of  the 
arrival  of  the  demand  from  England.  It  was  his  view 
(for  which  there  was  fair  ground)  that  the  surrender  made 
in  this  way  would  be  less  humiliating  than  if  made  in 
response  to  the  threat  of  war  which  could  be  safely  ex 
pected.  He  pointed  out  that  war  with  Great  Britain 
meant  the  blockading  of  the  Northern  ports,  the  inter 
vention  of  the  British  fleet  on  the  Potomac,  and  the  almost 


208  Lincoln  and  Seward  [1861 

inevitable  success  of  the  Confederacy.  Lincoln  did  not 
question  the  general  wisdom  of  this  counsel  and  realised 
very  fully  with  Seward  what  must  under  the  existing 
conditions  be  the  upshot  of  war  with  Great  Britain.  He 
pointed  out  on  the  other  hand  that  it  was  of  importance 
to  bring  the  matter  to  a  close  in  such  fashion  as  should,  if 
possible,  avoid  the  impairment  of  the  prestige  of  the 
Government  with  the  voters  of  the  North.  In  November, 
1861,  there  was  still  ground  for  doubt  as  to  how  far  the 
Administration  could  depend  upon  the  substantial  support 
of  the  Northern  States  in  the  suppression  of  the  Rebellion. 
A  great  number  of  the  papers,  led  by  the  New  York 
Herald  and  by  other  journals  under  the  direction  of  Irish 
editors,  had  been  active  in  demanding,,  in  this  issue  with 
England,  a  firm  stand  on  the  part  of  the  Administration, 
and  in  condemning  in  advance  any  timid  or  cowardly 
counsels. 

Said  Mr.  Lincoln:  "If  we  wait  until  we  receive  the  de 
mand  from  Great  Britain,  we  can,  I  believe,  score  a  point 
for  American  diplomacy."  Lincoln's  counsel  prevailed 
and  no  word  was  sent  to  London  until  the  arrival  of  the 
British  message.  In  the  despatch  drafted  by  Seward  and 
amended  by  Lincoln  (the  Nicolay  and  Hay  Life  of  Lin 
coln  presents  in  facsimile  the  original  despatch  with  the 
interlineations  of  Lincoln),  the  American  Government  ex 
presses  its  satisfaction  that  her  Majesty's  Government 
has  been  prepared  to  accept  "the  old-time  American  con 
tention"  that  merchant  vessels  on  the  high  seas  should 
not  be  liable  to  search  by  men-of-war. 

It  may  be  recalled  here  that  this  right  of  search  on  the 
high  seas  had  been  one  of  the  several  causes  that  had 
brought  about  the  War  of  1812.  At  the  time  of  the  sign 
ing  of  the  Treaty  of  Ghent  in  1814,  the  British  and 
American  envoys,  while  agreeing  together  that  this  right 
of  search  should  be  abandoned  by  Great  Britain,  had  not 


i86i]  Palmerston  and  Judge  Mann  209 

been  able  to  come  into  accord  as  to  the  wording  of  the 
provision  covering  the  abandonment.  As  the  matter  was 
finally  left,  it  was  agreed,  "as  between  gentlemen,"  that 
the  right  should  no  longer  be  claimed  or  exercised,  but  in 
the  treaty  itself  no  reference  is  made  to  the  matter  which 
had  been  one  of  the  more  important  immediate  causes  of 
the  war.  It  was,  therefore,  not  until  nearly  fifty  years 
later  that,  for  the  purpose  of  enforcing  its  claim  for  the 
protection  of  its  own  merchant-marine,  Great  Britain 
made  formal  abandonment  of  the  right  of  search  on  the 
high  seas.  The  fact  that  it  was  possible,  while  accepting 
the  contention  of  Great  Britain,  to  score  a  little  triumph 
on  behalf  of  an  American  policy,  did  not  a  little  to  "save 
the  face"  of  the  American  Administration  with  the  people 
of  the  North.  Lincoln's  patience  and  prescience  were 
justified  by  the  event. 

Some  twenty  years  after  the  close  of  the  war,  I  hap 
pened  to  secure  a  curious  personal  confirmation  of  the 
hopes  and  of  the  attitude  of  Palmerston  in  regard  to  the 
matter  of  the  Trent.  I  found  myself,  in  one  of  my  annual 
trips  across  the  Atlantic,  sitting  next  to  a  gentleman  of 
my  own  generation  who  identified  himself  as  a  Judge  from 
Georgia.  We  naturally  came  into  conversation  in  regard 
to  the  war,  and  my  companion  mentioned  that  he  had  him 
self  borne  arms,  I  think,  as  a  sergeant  of  cavalry,  "but," 
he  added,  "  my  most  interesting  service  in  behalf  of  the 
Confederacy  was  in  London  as  the  companion  of  my 
father,  who  was  the  first  Confederate  envoy  to  London, 
and  who,  after  the  affair  of  the  Trent,  was  replaced  by 
Mason."  The  Judge  was  in  1861  but  a  boy  of  seventeen, 
and  his  father  had  utilised  him  as  secretary  for  this  em 
bryonic  legation. 

"Then,"  I  said,  "you  are  the  son  of  Judge  Mann, 
of  Georgia. "  My  companion  was  interested  that  I  should 
have  recalled  the  name  of  his  father,  and  went  on  with 
14 


2io  Palmerston  and  Judge  Mann 

an  account  of  his  London  experience.  He  said  that  during 
the  later  months  of  1861,  Palmerston  made  a  practice  of 
coming  from  evening  to  evening  to  his  father's  office  in 
Suffolk  Street,  Pall  Mall,  East.  In  these  interviews,  the 
youngster  was  sent  out  of  the  room,  but  now  and  then 
there  came  to  him  scraps  of  the  conversation,  and  at  times 
also  his  father,  with  increasing  confidence  in  the  success  of 
the  Confederacy  that  was  to  be  brought  about  through 
British  intervention,  would  report  to  his  son  his  satis 
faction  concerning  the  attitude  and  the  probable  influence 
of  Palmerston,  and  he  emphasised  also  the  importance  of 
the  harmony  of  opinion  that  had  been  arrived  at  between 
Palmerston  and  Louis  Napoleon. 

On  the  November  afternoon  in  which  there  came  to 
London  the  news  of  the  capture  of  the  Trent,  the  com 
missioner  came  to  the  office  in  a  state  of  gleeful  excitement 
"which,"  said  his  son,  " caused  him  for  the  time  being 
to  forget  his  diplomatic  reserve.  '  Boy, '  said  he,  '  we've 
got  them!  Those  fools  of  Yankees  have  captured  a 
British  Ship.  This  means,'  he  continued,  'that  the 
Confederacy  is  assured  of  recognition  on  the  part  of 
England  and  France,  and,  a.s  we  may  now  hope,  of  armed 
intervention  by  the  two  nations,  supported  by  their 
fleets  and  by  an  invading  force.1  "The  event  seemed  to 
my  father  to  promise  almost-  a  certainty  of  Southern 
independence  and  an  early  cessation  of  the  war,  and  I, 
in  my  boyish  optimism,  was,  of  course,  quite  prepared  to 
share  my  father's  enthusiasm  and  hopefulness.  That 
evening,"  continued  the  Judge,  "Palmerston  came  to  the 
office  and  this  time  the  young  secretary  was  not  sent  out. 
I  remember  very  vividly  the  tall  figures  of  Palmerston  and 
my  father  standing  before  the  map  of  the  States  (we 
were  no  longer  speaking  of  them  as  the  United  States) 
which  hung  on  the  wall  and  deciding  together  at  what 
points  the  first  action  of  the  British  fleet  or  of  the  com- 


Palmerston  and  Judge  Mann  211 

bined  fleets  could  be  taken  to  best  advantage.  New 
York  and  Philadelphia  were  to  be  assailed,  but  the  most 
important,  and  possibly  the  earlier,  action  was  to  be  taken 
on  the  Potomac,  where,  with  the  aid  of  the  British  fleet 
and  with  such  forces  as  might  be  necessary  (French 
and  English),  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston,  at  that  time 
commanding  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  was  to  be 
placed  in  a  position  first  to  isolate  and  then  to  cap 
ture  Washington.  'With  the  capture  of  Washington,' 
said  Palmerston,  'France  and  England  will  be  in  a  posi 
tion  to  demand  the  immediate  cessation  of  the  war  and 
to  exercise  a  rightful  influence  in  regard  to  the  terms  of 
peace. ' 

"This  hopeful  expectation  continued, "  said  the  Judge, 
"for  the  term  of  weeks  required  to  secure  a  reply  to  the 
British  despatch.  When  it  was  realised  that  the  Ameri 
can  Government  had  decided  not  to  return  the  envoys  at 
once,  my  father  felt  that  he  had  safe  ground  for  confi 
dence.  '  Why ! '  he  said,  '  if  they  were  going  to  accept  the 
British  contention,  they  would,  of  course,  release  the  en 
voys  before  the  demand  was  presented.'  It  was,  there 
fore,"  said  the  Judge,  "a  grievous  disappointment  to  my 
father  and  to  myself  when  some  weeks  later  we  had 
news  of  the  arrival  of  Lincoln's  despatch  with  the  word 
that  the  envoys  were  on  their  way  to  London.  It  was  not 
that  my  father  had  any  regret  at  turning  over  to  Mr. 
Mason  his  responsibilities  as  an  envoy.  He  had  accepted 
the  task  only  ad  interim  and  until  a  more  formal  appoint 
ment  could  be  made.  He  felt,  however,  that  the  first 
great  opportunity  for  the  success  of  the  Confederacy  had 
passed,  and  while  still  confident  of  success  he  realised 
what  suffering  must  come  to  the  people  of  our  section 
through  a  long- continued  war." 

The  task  that  had  been  committed  during  these  years 
of  war  to  our  Ministers  abroad,  and  more  particularly  to 


212  Her  Majesty's  Government  [1861- 

Charles  Francis  Adams,  in  London,  and  John  Bigelow, 
in  Paris,  which  were  what  might  be  called  the  war  centres 
of  Europe,  was  difficult  and  called  for  the  fullest  possible 
measure  of  good  judgment,  patience,  tact,  and  courage. 
Mr.  Adams  found  himself  in  the  official  and  social  circles 
of  London  in  what  he  frankly  described  as  a  "hostile 
community."  The  more  influential  of  the  members 
of  her  Majesty's  Government,  Lord  Palmerston,  Lord 
Russell,  and  Mr.  Gladstone  were  entirely  unsympathetic 
with  the  cause  of  the  North.  They  had  convinced 
themselves  that  the  task  of  what  they  called  reconquering 
the  South,  and  thus  of  maintaining  the  existence  of  the 
Western  Republic,  was  a  hopeless  one.  They  had  also 
convinced  themselves  that  the  breaking  up  of  the  Re 
public  would  be  on  the  whole  to  the  advantage  of 
the  interests  of  Great  Britain.  This  opinion  of  the 
majority  of  the  Cabinet  was  shared  very  generally  by 
the  leaders  of  society  in  London,  by  the  editors  of  the 
larger  number  of  the  influential  journals,  headed  by  John 
Delane  of  the  Times,  and  with  but  few  exceptions  by 
the  scholars  of  Oxford  and  of  Cambridge.  The  fact  that 
the  social  feeling  of  London  was  opposed  to  the  North 
was  indicated  by  the  cordial  hospitality  given  to  the 
Southern  envoys,  first  Judge  Mann  and  later  Judge 
Mason,  and  by  what  amounted  to  the  social  isolation 
of  Mr.  Adams.  He  received  but  few  invitations  except 
ing  those  that  could  be  described  as  officially  necessary,  and 
as  he  found  the  attitude  ot  society  antagonistic,  he  kept 
himself  increasingly  in  the  seclusion  of  his  own  home. 

Among  the  noteworthy  friends  of  the  North,  men  who 
understood  that  the  contest  was  not  simply  for  the  domi 
nation  of  the  continent,  but  for  the  maintenance  of  a 
republican  form  of  government  and  for  the  crushing 
out  of  the  anachronism  of  slavery,  were  John  Bright, 
Richard  Cobden,  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  W.  E.  Forster,  and 


i862]  Friends  of  the  Confederacy  213 

Richard  Hargreaves.  In  Oxford  may  be  recalled  Jowett 
and  Reade, J  both  of  them  young  men,  and  in  Cambridge, 
Leslie  Stephen,  who,  youngster  that  he  was  in  1861-65, 
was  able,  by  the  use  of  authoritative  knowledge  and  of 
earnestness  of  conviction  and  of  readiness  to  make  a 
fight  from  the  minority,  to  maintain  some  backing  in  the 
University  for  the  cause  of  the  North.  I  own  a  copy  of  a 
pamphlet,  now  very  scarce,  printed  by  Stephen  in  Sep 
tember,  1865,  in  which  he  shows  up  a  long  series  of  false 
statements  and  bogus  news  in  regard  to  our  war  printed 
in  the  Times  between  1861  and  1865. 

The  influence  of  Queen  Victoria,  based  very  largely  upon 
the  emphatic  convictions  of  Prince  Albert,  was  in  favour  of 
the  North,  or  at  least  in  very  direct  opposition  to  any  use 
of  the  power  of  England  in  behalf  of  the  South,  and  was, 
of  course,  of  first  importance.  In  his  dealings  with 
Palmerston  and  Lord  John  Russell,  Adams  had  need  of  all 
the  sturdiness  of  character  for  which  his  family  was  fam 
ous.  The  later  history  has  shown  that,  in  co-operation  with 
John  Delane,  Lord  Palmerston  was  in  correspondence  with 
Louis  Napoleon  for  an  early  intervention  on  the  part  of 
Great  Britain  and  of  France,  an  intervention  which  would, 
of  course,  have  brought  about  the  destruction  of  the 
Republic.  Delane  and  a  circle  of  his  friends  were  inter 
ested  on  business  grounds  in  boosting  up  the  Confederate 
cotton  loan,  and  the  despatches  sent  to  the  Times  from  its 
American  correspondents  were  coloured  and,  to  some 
extent,  absolutely  falsified,  until  the  very  last  months  of 
the  war,  in  support  of  the  policy  that  had  been  adopted 
by  its  editor-in-chief.  I  have  in  my  collection  of  war 
literature,  a  copy  of  the  list  of  subscribers  to  the  Confeder 
ate  cotton  loan,  and  I  was  very  much  saddened  to  find  in 

1  Charles  Reade,  the  novelist,  was  Fellow  of  Magdalen  College  from 
1850  to  1866.  He  was  in  residence  in  college  for  a  large  part  of  this  time, 
and  completed  in  Oxford  certain  of  his  earlier  romances. 


214  The  Laird  Rams  [1861- 

that  list  the  name  of  Mr.  Gladstone  for  a  subscription  of  two 
thousand  guineas.  Gladstone's  famous  address  at  Newcas 
tle,  in  which  he  declared  that  Jefferson  Davis  had  created 
an  army,  was  making  good  progress  (he  did  not  say  with 
the  aid  of  Great  Britain)  in  the  creation  of  a  navy,  and  had, 
as  he,  Gladstone,  believed,  created  a  new  nation,  produced 
an  effect  contrary  to  what  the  speaker  had  in  mind.  Pal- 
merston  appears  to  have  taken  the  ground  that  his  young 
associate  was  endeavouring  to  force  the  hand  of  the  Cabi 
net.  A  motion  of  Lord  John  Russell,  made  shortly  after 
this  speech,  for  intervention  in  co-operation  with  Louis 
Napoleon  was  defeated  in  the  Cabinet  by  a  close  vote. 

In  1862,  after  the  escape  of  the  Alabama,  a  sharp  issue 
was  raised  between  Mr.  Adams  and  Lord  John  Russell 
in  regard  to  two  powerful  rams  that  the  Lairds  had  in 
readiness  for  delivery  to  the  Confederacy.  Adams  had 
placed  before  Lord  Russell  what  seemed  to  be  conclusive 
evidence  as  to  the  purpose  for  which  the  rams  were  being 
constructed,  a  purpose  in  regard  to  which  there  was  at 
the  time  no  real  doubt  in  the  minds  of  anybody.  Russell 
had  been  entirely  evasive  in  regard  to  the  propriety  of  any 
interference  on  the  part  of  the  Government  in  having  the 
rams  get  away  from  British  control.  Adams  then  finally 
permits  himself  to  use  the  phrase,  "It  is  superfluous  to  point 
out  to  your  Lordship  that  this  is  War. "  This  was  the  first 
and  only  time  in  the  course  of  the  troublesome  negotiations 
of  four  years,  negotiations  which  had  for  their  purpose  the 
checking  or  the  limiting  at  least  of  the  use  of  the  harbours 
of  Britain  and  of  the  British  islands  in  the  West  Indies  as 
a  base  of  supplies  for  the  Confederacy,  in  which  Adams 
permitted  himself  to  use  words  that  bore  the  character 
of  a  threat.  The  time,  however,  had  come  for  plain 
speaking,  and  on  final  thought  Russell  decided  that  the 
rams  had  better  be  held.  This  decision  undoubtedly 
saved  Great  Britain  from  a  very  substantial  addition  to 


John  Bigelow  215 

the  fifteen  million  dollars  that  were  some  years  later  paid 
under  the  decision  of  the  Geneva  Court  for  the  ravages  of 
the  Shenandoah  and  the  Alabama. 

The  responsibilities  of  John  Bigelow  in  Paris  were  in 
certain  ways  more  difficult  than  those  of  Mr.  Adams.  For 
the  first  three  years  of  the  war,  Mr.  Bigelow  did  not  even 
possess,  in  form  at  least,  the  authority  of  a  Minister;  his 
post  was  that  of  Consul-General.  The  Minister,  Mr. 
Dayton,  was,  however,  a  man  of  no  particular  force  of 
character  and  of  no  special  qualifications  for  the  post. 
He  had  no  knowledge  of  any  language  other  than  English, 
and  he  was,  therefore,  not  in  a  position  to  study,  or  still  less 
to  influence,  the  opinions  of  France  and  of  the  Continent  on 
conditions  in  the  United  States.  He  was  wise  enough  to 
permit  his  energetic,  capable,  and  public-spirited  Consul- 
General  to  take  charge  for  France,  and  in  large  part  also 
for  the  Continent,  of  the  measures  that  were  necessary  to 
protect  the  threatened  interests  of  the  Republic.  Mr, 
Adams,  in  London,  found  himself  in  a  circle  that  was  preju 
diced  and  antagonistic,  and  he  was  not  always  able  to  se 
cure  a  straight  answer  to  a  straight  question,  but  in  his 
relations  with  the  representatives  of  her  Majesty's  Govern 
ment,  he  was  at  least  dealing  with  gentlemen,  and  with  gen 
tlemen  who  before  the  four  years  were  over  came  to  hold  in 
increasing  respect  the  sturdy  and  self-possessed  Yankee. 
The  Government  of  Napoleon  III.,  however,  was  made  up 
of  men  who  can  fairly  be  described  as  a  lot  of  gamesters. 

Napoleon's  half-brother,  Morny,  represented  the  brains 
of  the  Cabinet,  and  the  later  history  credited,  or  debited, 
to  Morny  the  main  share  in  the  direction  of  the  Emperor's 
policy.  Bigelow  had  to  do  with  men  who,  in  addition  to 
their  prejudices  against  the  North  and  their  political  pre 
ferences  for  the  success  of  the  South,  had  a  strong  com 
mercial  interest  in  the  breaking  up  of  the  Republic.  Morny 
was  the  man  who  arranged  for  the  purchase  from  the  Swiss 


216  The  Policy  of  France  [1861- 

banker  Jecker  of  a  claim  of  some  millions  of  francs  against 
the  Mexican  Government.  This  claim,  multiplied  many 
times,  was  utilised  as  the  basis  for  the  organisation  of  a 
stock  company.  Under  Morny's  contract  with  the  com 
pany,  he  was  to  receive  thirty  per  cent,  of  all  the  moneys 
that  were  collected  from  Mexico  on  the  basis  of  Jecker 's 
claim.  His  contribution  to  the  undertaking  was  his 
influence  over  or  his  control  of  the  policy  of  the  Emperor. 
It  was  under  Morny's  direction  that  France  decided  to 
invade  Mexico,  and  it  was  under  pressure  from  the  com 
pany  of  which  he  was  the  representative  that,  when 
England  had  withdrawn  from  the  expedition,  the  French 
troops  were  retained  in  the  effort  to  establish  a  French 
Empire  in  the  West. 

Mr.  Slidell,  the  cleverest  of  the  representatives  that  the 
South  sent  abroad  during  the  war,  was  persona  grata  at  the 
Court  of  the  Emperor,  and  was  in  close  relations  with 
Morny.  Slidell  had  made  clear  to  Morny  that  if  the 
power  of  France  could  be  exerted  in  behalf  of  the  Con 
federacy,  the  Emperor  should  have  a  free  hand  with  his 
plans  in  Mexico.  A  free  hand  for  the  Imperial  plans 
meant  enormous  returns  for. Morny's  stock- jobbing  com 
pany.  Mr.  Dayton  and  Mr.  Bigelow  on  the  other  hand 
had  made  clear  to  Drouyn  de  Lhuys  that  as  soon  as  the 
United  States  had  gotten  through  with  the  management  of 
the  Rebellion,  measures  would  be  taken  to  bring  to  a  close 
the  European  invasion  of  the  North  American  continent. 
Two  at  least  of  the  vessels  that  were  constructed  in  France 
for  the  aid  of  the  Confederacy  were  built  not  in  private 
shipyards,  like  that  of  the  Lairds  on  the  Mersey,  but  in  the 
government  docks,  and  they  were  fitted  out  with  muni 
tions  belonging  to  the  Empire.  Two  smaller  vessels  got  to 
sea,  but  Bigelow' s  special  anxiety  was  in  regard  to  two 
rams  of  large  power  which  early  in  1864  were  in  the  docks 
at  Cherbourg,  almost  ready  for  sea.  Bigelow  had  ex- 


The  French  Rams  217 

hausted  his  final  arguments  with  Drouyn  de  Lhuys,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  there  was  no  way  to  stop  the  going  out  of 
the  rams.  Slidell  wrote  to  Jefferson  Davis  that  the  rams 
would  certainly  sail  within  a  week's  time.  At  this  point, 
Bigelow  wrote  a  letter  to  the  American  Consul  at  Mar 
seilles  and  arranged  that  the  letter  should  be  stolen  on  the 
way.  It  was  stolen,  and  in  due  course  was  brought  into 
print  in  the  Moniteur.  In  this  letter  Bigelow  states  to  the 
Consul  that  he  had  heard  of  considerable  investments 
being  made  by  capitalists  of  the  North  in  fitting  out 
armed  cruisers.  Some  of  these  cruisers  were,  as  Bigelow 
understood,  shortly  to  sail  out  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
with  letters  of  marque  from  Juarez.  "I  fear,"  said 
Bigelow,  "that  if  these  cruisers  get  to  sea  the  commerce  of 
France  must  suffer  severely."  Such  an  undertaking  as 
was  here  outlined  seemed  plausible  enough.  Juarez 
had  convinced  himself  that  his  best  chances  for  success  in 
his  struggle  against  Maximilian  and  Bazaine  would  be 
to  embroil  the  United  States  with  France.  He  would 
have  been  very  ready  to  deliver  letters  of  marque  to 
American  cruisers,  or  for  that  matter  to  cruisers  from  any 
state  whatsoever.  It  is  also  true  that  if  such  cruisers  had 
put  to  sea  from  the  north  of  Mexico,  Bazaine's  com 
munications  with  France  would  have  been  cut  off  and  that 
French  commerce  would  have  suffered.  The  advisers  of 
Napoleon  realised  the  possibility  and  the  difficulty. 
Morny  for  once  was  overridden  and  instructions  were 
sent  to  Cherbourg  to  stop  the  sailing  of  the  rams.  If  the 
courageous  efforts  of  the  hardly-taxed  Ministers  in  Lon 
don  and  in  Paris  had  not  prevented  the  sailing  of  rams 
from  the  Mersey  and  from  Cherbourg,  the  damage  that 
would  have  been  done  to  the  American  blockading  fleet 
would  have  very  seriously  interfered  with  the  operations 
of  the  Northern  armies.  The  resulting  irritation  would 
doubtless  have  brought  about  intervention. 


2i8  The  People  of  Great  Britain  [1861- 

In  recording  the  antagonism  of  the  leaders  of  the 
British  Government  and  of  the  leaders  of  society  to  the 
cause  of  the  North,  it  is  only  fair  to  recall  that  the  sym 
pathies  of  the  great  body  of  the  British  people  were  on 
the  side  of  the  Republic.  Englishmen,  and  particularly 
those  whose  politics  were  liberal,  realised  that  our  con 
test  was  against  the  perpetuation  of  slavery,  and  they 
also  realised,  and  it  was  here  that  their  personal  interests 
were  affected,  that  it  was  a  fight  for  the  maintenance  of  a 
government  based  upon  republican  principles,  a  govern 
ment  that  represented  not  only  for  the  western  world,  but 
for  the  world  at  large,  the  interests  of  the  people.  We 
recall  also  with  grateful  remembrance  the  loyalty  to  the 
cause  of  the  Republic  on  the  part  of  the  operatives  of  the 
cotton  manufacturing  district,  in  Manchester,  Oldham, 
and  elsewhere.  These  people  were,  during  the  years  of 
the  war,  brought  to  the  brink'  of  starvation  because  of  the 
interference  that  the  war  had  caused  with  the  supplies  of 
cotton  required  for  their  mills.  They  might  naturally 
have  given  their  opinion,  and  have  exercised  pressure 
upon  the  government,  in  favour  of  bringing  the  war  to  a 
close  at  any  price  in  order  that  their  work  might  go  on 
and  their  livelihood  be  assured.  In  place  of  such  a  course, 
they  expressed  persistently  from  year  to  year,  through 
their  great  spokesman  John  Bright,  their  feeling  that  the 
Republic  ought  to  succeed  in  maintaining  its  existence 
and  their  belief  that  it  would  succeed,  and  they  were 
persistently  and  consistently  opposed  to  the  measures 
taken  by  the  leaders  of  the  British  Government  which 
had  for  their  purpose  the  destruction  of  the  Republic.  In 
1863,  when  in  the  absolute  stoppage  of  the  cotton  mills  the 
operatives  had  been  brought  to  the  verge  of  starvation, 
John  Bright  suggested  to  Mr.  Adams  that,  as  well  for  the 
sake  of  helping  a  needy  and  patient  people,  as  because 
of  the  advantage  of  strengthening  and  of  influencing 


France  and  Lincoln  219 

public  opinion  throughout  England  in  behalf  of  the  cause 
of  the  North,  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  some  help 
come  to  these  operatives  from  the  States.  The  suggestion, 
promptly  transmitted  by  Adams  to  New  York  and  to 
Boston,  resulted  in  the  formation  of  a  committee  which 
was  headed  by  merchants  like  Henry  Grinnell  and  John 
M.  Forbes  (and  of  which  I  am  glad  to  remember  my  father 
was  a  member)  for  the  purpose  of  sending  help  to  Man 
chester.  Three  ships  were  despatched  to  Liverpool  laden 
with  food  supplies  for  the  cotton  manufacturing  districts, 
and  these  supplies  were  distributed  under  the  direction 
of  a  committee  organised  by  John  Bright. 

I  may  recall  also  that  while  the  members  of  Louis 
Napoleon's  Government  were  doing  what  they  could  to 
bring  about  the  destruction  of  the  Republic,  the  people  of 
France  were  very  largely  opposed  to  the  cause  of  the  slave- 
holding  autocracy  of  the  South,  and  were  sympathetic 
with  the  purposes  of  the  Republic  of  the  North  and  with 
the  leadership  of  Lincoln.  After  the  death  of  Lincoln, 
a  popular  subscription,  the  individual  payment  for  which 
was  restricted  to  two  sous,  produced  from  the  people  of 
France,  including  the  operatives  and  the  peasants,  a 
fund  of  some  thousands  of  francs  which  was  utilised  for 
the  shaping  of  an  artistic  gold  medal  commemorating  the 
career  of  Lincoln  and  the  service  rendered  by  him  to  the 
world.  This  medal  is  at  this  time  (1914)  in  the  possession 
of  Robert  Lincoln. 

The  history  of  these  events  came  to  me  only  in  later 
years,  partly  through  my  father  and  partly  through  per 
sonal  relations  with  Mr.  Bigelow  and  with  a  careful  read 
ing  of  all  the  records  connected  with  the  work  of  Mr. 
Adams.  The  matters  referred  to  constitute,  however,  a 
very  important  factor  in  the  fortunes  of  the  war  and  the 
reference  to  them  belongs  properly,  therefore,  to  this 
portion  of  my  narrative. 


XI 
I  Become  a  Soldier 

THE  Hartz  trip  was  the  last  of  my  experiences  as  a 
student.  At  the  end  of  July,  my  traps  were  packed 
and  I  was  on  my  way  to  the  steamer  at  Bremen. 
I  had  no  thought,  however,  that  I  was  bidding  a  final 
farewell  to  Gottingen.  I  told  my  laboratory  instructors, 
my  good  landlady,  and  the  friends  who  were  within  reach 
that  the  war  could  not  last  much  longer  and  that  I  con 
fidently  expected  to  return  within  the  coming  year  for 
the  completion  of  my  work  and  the  securing  of  my  doctor 
ate.  I  was  not  the  only  American  of  that  generation 
whose  calculations  concerning  the  duration  of  the  war  and 
plans  for  things  to  be  done  after  the  war  had  to  be 
revised.  Jefferson  Davis  and  his  associates  had  given  to 
the  States  of  the  North  a  much  more  serious  task  than  had 
at  first  been  imagined.  In  looking  back  at  the  difficulties, 
the  wonder  now  is  not  that  it  took  four  years  to  complete 
the  contract  and  to  reassert  the  control  of  the  National 
Government  over  the  southern  half  of  our  territory,  but 
that  the  patience  and  persistence  of  the  people  continued 
during  so  long  a  time.  The  resources  in  men  and  in 
material  were,  of  course,  sufficient  to  exhaust  those  of  the 
South  provided  the  North  were  willing  to  persist.  For 
tunately  the  willingness  grew  with  the  strain  of  those  years 
of  contest.  If  we  had  failed  at  Gettysburg  as  we  failed 

220 


[i862]  Going  Home  for  the  War  221 

at  Chancellorsville,  the  contest  would  indeed  have  been 
prolonged,  but  with  the  temperament  of  the  people  as  at 
that  time  tested  the  result  could  not  have  been  different. 
There  was  ground  enough,  however,  for  doubt  and 
anxiety  in  August  of  1862,  when  I  stepped  on  board  the 
steamer  Hansa  at  Bremen.  My  fellow-passengers  in 
cluded  a  group  of  Americans,  returning  like  myself,  in  part 
for  war  service  and  in  part  because  the  resources  upon 
which  they  had  been  depending  for  their  foreign  travel 
were  no  longer  available.  It  was  not  a  hopeful  group. 
The  latest  news  from  home  had  been  of  continued  and 
further  discouragement.  With  the  purpose  of  saving 
pennies  as  far  as  practicable,  my  passage  was  taken  second 
class  and  I  found  myself  in  a  stateroom  with  three  other 
inmates.  The  only  passenger  whose  name  I  recall  was 
the  means  of  bringing  me  into  some  little  inconvenience 
later.  She  was  a  middle-aged  widow  named  Schonenberg. 
A  Louisianian  by  birth,  she  had  married  a  German 
banker.  Her  husband  having  died,  she  was  on  her  way 
back  to  New  Orleans  to  see  what  might  remain  Tof  her 
father's  property.  During  the  first  part  of  the  trip  she 
was  ill,  and  as  she  was  travelling  alone  and  as  I  had  no 
special  responsibilities  on  board,  I  rendered  her  some 
civilities,  so  that  by  my  fellow-passengers  I  came  to  be 
considered  as  her  travelling  companion.  When  she  got 
stronger  she  began  to  talk  and,  unfortunately,  she  talked 
a  good  deal  of  nonsense.  She  took  pains  to  tell  us  that 
she  was  a  cousin  of  General  Beauregard  and  that  through 
his  name  and  also  through  her  husband's  business  connec 
tions  in  Frankfort  she  was  known  to  the  Erlangers,  who 
were  the  Confederate  fiscal  agents  on  the  Continent.  In 
these  circles  in  Frankfort,  the  conversation  had  been 
principally  of  the  triumph  of  the  South.  It  was,  in  fact, 
part  of  the  Erlangers'  business  to  boom  the  Southern 
credit.  It  was  also  true  that  up  to  this  period  the  cause 


222  Going  Home  for  the  War  [1862 

of  the  war  had  given  not  a  little  ground  for  encouragement 
to  the  Southern  sympathisers.  Mrs.  Schonenberg's  con 
versation  was,  therefore,  largely  of  a  triumphant  expecta 
tion  character.  She  expected  to  find  her  cousin  General 
Beauregard  in  command  at  New  Orleans  and  she  supposed 
that  the  war  itself  could  have  but  one  ending  and  was  to 
be  of  short  duration. 

When  we  landed  in  New  York,  after  an  eleven  or  twelve 
days'  trip,  some  of  the  over-patriotic  or  over-officious 
passengers  took  pains  to  report  to  the  marshal  in  charge  at 
the  pier  (there  was  a  good  deal  of  martial  law  in  control  of 
the  country  at  that  time)  the  suspicious  character  of  Mrs. 
Schonenberg.  She  was  imagined  to  be  an  emissary  from 
the  Erlangers  to  General  Beauregard.  It  is  quite  possible 
in  fact  that  she  herself  had  made  some  such  statement. 
It  is  a  little  difficult  to  understand  why  any  sensible 
people  should  have  believed  'that  shrewd  bankers  would 
select  for  confidential  business  a  vain,  talkative,  and 
injudicious  woman,  but  in  war  times  a  good  many  things 
are  easily  believed.  In  any  case,  Mrs.  Schonenberg  was 
promptly  put  under  arrest  and  was  carried  off  to  the 
Metropolitan  Hotel  with  her  trunks  under  seal  for 
thorough  examination.  The  order  for  arrest  was  made 
wide  enough  to  include  myself  as  her  travelling  companion, 
and  so  it  happened  that  a  youngster  returning  home  with 
patriotic  intent  for  the  purpose  of  taking  his  part  in  the 
defence  of  his  country  found  himself  greeted  in  his  home 
city  as  a  Confederate  emissary.  I  mentioned  to  the 
marshal  the  name  of  my  father,  which  he  admitted  was 
known  to  him  as  that  of  a  reputable  citizen.  He  was 
inclined,  however,  to  take  the  ground  that  this  reference 
to  George  P.  Putnam  was  "important  only  if  true." 
"How  do  I  know,"  he  said,  "that  Mr.  Putnam  is  your 
father?"  The  reason  why  my  father  was  not  on  hand  to 
speak  for  himself  and  for  his  son  was  that  he  had  con  si  d- 


1862]  New  York  in  War  Time  223 

ered  it  more  important  to  give  the  time  to  taking  care  of  a 
Maine  regiment  that  was  passing  through  the  city  to  the 
front. 

He  had,  as  I  found  out  later,  instituted  a  committee  of 
Maine  men  in  New  York,  of  which  committee  he  was,  as 
usual,  the  active  member,  to  see  that  the  soldiers  from  our 
farthest  East  should  lack  for  nothing  on  their  way  through 
the  city.  He  assumed  that  his  son  could  take  care  of  him 
self,  which  would  have  been  possible  enough  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  marshal;  so  I  sat  on  my  trunk,  cooling  my 
heels  (metaphorically,  for  the  day  was  warm  enough)  for 
an  hour  or  two,  until  finally,  the  Maine  men  having  been 
put  to  bed,  my  father  arrived  to  look  for  me.  He  knew 
that  the  steamer  had  gotten  in  and  he  could  not  under 
stand  what  had  detained  me.  I  was  promptly  released 
with  an  apology  from  the  marshal  and  the  official  seals 
were  taken  off  my  modest  trunk. 

I  remember  as  we  walked  up  Broadway  being  impressed 
with  the  change  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  city  and  in  the 
expression  of  the  faces  of  the  men  we  passed.  At  the 
time  of  my  departure  in  1860,  the  country  appeared  to  be 
in  a  state  of  satisfactory  recovery  from  the  business 
troubles  of  1857;  the  crops  were  good,  business  was  active, 
and  people  generally  were  happy  and  hopeful.  It  was 
evident  to  me  in  the  autumn  of  1862  from  a  first  glance 
at  the  people  about  me  that  much  had  been  crowded 
into  those  two  years.  The  people  were  excited,  not 
noisily  so  but  apprehensive,  with  a  certain  intensity  of 
expectation.  They  had  during  the  past  eighteen  months 
suffered  keenly  from  disappointments  of  one  kind  and 
another,  defeat  at  the  front  and  business  disaster  at  home. 
In  going  up  Broadway,  we  passed  at  the  office  of  the 
Herald  Building  at  Ann  Street  a  bulletin  board,  around 
which  a  group  of  people  were  standing.  I  slipped  in 
between  the  men  so  as  to  get  a  hasty  glance  at  the 


224  New  York  in  War  Time  [1862 

announcement.  My  imagination  was  at  once  impressed 
with  the  fact  that  history  was  being  made.  The  line  read  : 
"A  battle  is  now  going  on. "  It  is  difficult  to  understand 
half  a  century  later  the  novelty  of  the  feeling  and  the 
keenness  of  the  impression  made  by  news  reported  in  the 
present  or,  so  to  speak,  the  continuing  tense. 

Some  months  later,  when  I  was  playing  in  New  Orleans 
the  part  of  a  ruthless  invader,  I  bethought  myself  to  look 
up  my  travelling  companion.  I  went  to  General  Beau- 
regard's  house,  which  was  one  of  the  well-known  mansions 
in  the  city,  and  rang  the  bell.  After  some  delay  the  door 
was  opened  a  few  inches  only,  being  protected  on  the 
inside  by  a  chain.  The  elderly  white  woman  whose  face 
appeared  around  the  edge,  as  soon  as  she  saw  a  blue  coat 
standing  in  the  entrance,  slammed  the  door  to  in  my  face 
without  waiting  to  hear  my  message.  I  pushed  a  card 
under  the  door  with  a  greeting  for  Mrs.  Schonenberg, 
but  did  not  make  any  further  attempts  to  invade  her 
cousin's  domicile.  Mrs.  Beauregard  was  at  that  time  in 
the  house  and  a  little  later  we  learned  of  her  illness,  an 
illness  which  proved  to  be  mortal.  When  General  Banks, 
who  was  in  command  of  the  department,  learned  how 
serious  the  illness  was,  he  sent  a  message  out  under  flag 
of  truce  to  General  Beauregard  inviting  him  to  return  to 
the  city  under  safe  conduct.  The  General  came  promptly, 
with  his  acknowledgments  for  the  courtesy,  and  was  with 
his  wife  for  some  weeks  until  her  death.  I  do  riot  believe 
that  it  was  necessary  to  take  any  word  from  a  trained 
soldier  like  General  Beauregard  in  regard  to  the  matter  of 
reticence  concerning  our  forces  or  fortifications.  The 
General  was  too  much  of  a  man  to  utilise  later  any  in 
cidental  information  that  came  to  him  during  his  stay, 
while  it  was  also  the  case  that  in  a  city  like  New  Orleans 
it  was  impossible  to  prevent  the  fullest  information  from 
leaking  out  from  week  to  week  through  the  picket  lines. 


i862]  New  York  in  War  Time  225 

This  reference  to  New  Orleans  is,  however,  in  anticipation 
of  my  narrative. 

By  the  time  my  father  had  gotten  me  released  from  the 
clutches  of  the  marshal  and  had  secured  the  freedom  and 
the  shipment  of  my  baggage,  the  morning  was  pretty  well 
advanced.  He  took  me  to  lunch  at  a  down-town  restau 
rant  and  I  was  interested  when  the  time  came  for  the  pay 
ment  to  see  my  father  take  from  his  pocket  a  roll  of  postage 
stamps.  Under  the  influence  of  an  August  temperature, 
the  stamps  had  stuck  themselves  together  so  closely 
that  before  he  could  separate  from  the  mass  a  sufficient 
number  to  cover  the  cost  of  the  lunch,  others  had  been 
hopelessly  torn  apart  and  had  to  be  thrown  away.  I 
suggested  that  this  was  rather  an  extravagant  form  of 
money  if  it  were  necessary  to  tear  up  three  cents  when 
ever  you  were  going  to  use  another  three  cents  for  a 
payment.  My  father  replied  with  a  mild  grunt  that  that 
was  not  the  only  difficulty  connected  with  war  conditions. 
It  was  the  fact,  as  I  was  able  shortly  to  verify  by  experi 
ence,  that  in  this  second  year  of  the  war  all  "hard 
money "  had  disappeared  either  through  export  or  for 
hoarding.  This  absorption  of  specie  included  not  only 
the  gold  and  the  larger  silver  coins  which  had  some 
intrinsic  value,  but  even  the  dimes  and  pennies  used  as 
token  currency,  the  bullion  value  of  which  is  not  expressed 
by  their  denominations  or,  as  was  the  case  with  the  old  cop 
per  pennies,  was  purely  nominal.  In  order  to  meet  the 
daily  calls  for  the  smallest  payments,  the  people  had  taken 
to  using  postage  stamps,  a  practice  which,  because  of  the 
large  percentage  of  loss  through  the  handling,  became 
fairly  profitable  for  the  Government.  A  little  later, 
the  Post-office  Department,  in  manufacturing  the  ad 
ditional  supplies  of  stamps  required  for  this  new  demand, 
was  considerate  enough  to  print  a  supply  without  muci 
lage.  This  lessened  somewhat  the  annoyance  through 
is 


226  Postal  Currency  [1862 

the  sticking  together  of  one's  pocket  money,  but  the 
frailty  of  the  paper  still  brought  about  a  considerable 
percentage  of  waste  and  loss.  The  next  step  was  taken 
shortly  after  my  return  and  I  was  only  surprised  that 
even  under  the  pressure  of  war  difficulties  the  Govern 
ment  should  not  have  bethought  itself  earlier  of  the  cur 
rency  requirements  of  the  people.  The  Treasury  issued, 
I  think  it  was  in  the  early  autumn  of  1862,  what  was 
called  " postal  currency."  This  name  was  given  to  the 
little  bills  because  they  were  printed  to  take  the  place  of 
the  postage  stamps  issued.  The  denominations  were 
those  of  the  stamps,  three  cents,  five  cents,  ten  cents, 
fifteen  cents,  twenty  cents,  twenty-five  cents,  and  fifty 
cents.  The  needs  for  amounts  beyond  fifty  cents  were,  of 
course,  met  with  the  recently  printed  greenbacks.  The 
postal  currency  represented  a  very  good  standard  of 
engraving  and  printing,  but  as  must  always  be  the  case 
with  currency  of  low  denominations,  exposed  to  very 
considerable  handling,  it  rapidly  accumulated  dirt  and 
became  more  or  less  fragmentary.  If  the  microbes  that 
gather  upon  much-handled  money  are  really  deleterious  to 
human  health,  it  is  surprising  that  during  these  years  of 
paper  currency  there  had  not  been  a  microbe  pestilence 
among  our  people.  The  dirtiest  and  most  broken  of  the 
little  notes  were  returned,  as  collected  by  the  banks,  to  the 
Treasury  in  exchange  for  new  issues,  but  they  remained 
naturally  for  some  time  in  the  hands  of  citizens  who  did 
not  have  bank  accounts  and  who  were  not  entitled  to 
secure  bank  accommodation.  These  details  were,  of 
course,  a  matter  of  later  experience,  but  I  shall  not  easily 
forget  my  own  first  impressions,  gathered  from  the  sight 
of  my  father's  matted  bundle  of  postage  stamps,  of  the 
waste  of  war  and  of  the  difficulties  under  which  impecuni 
ous  citizens  were  labouring. 

The  family  home  was  at  that  time  at  a  little  village  on 


Five  Mile  River  227 

the  Sound  called  Five  Mile  River  Landing.  This  home 
and  the  various  series  of  homes  which  preceded  and  which 
followed  it  have  been  recorded  in  the  Memoir  of  my 
father.  There  were  various  reasons  why  in  connection 
with  the  business  difficulties,  the  varying  size  of  the 
family,  and  the  changing  conditions  brought  about  by  the 
war,  it  was  not  easy  to  secure  or  to  maintain  a  permanent 
homestead.  Apart  from  these  special  difficulties  of  the 
period,  however,  it  was  the  case  that  neither  my  father  nor 
my  mother  had  what  I  might  call  the  sense  of  permanency. 
All  through  their  lives,  they  had  a  certain  tendency  for 
restlessness  and  for  change,  a  tendency  which  might 
be  called  peculiarly  American.  This  quality,  coupled,  as 
said,  with  the  changing  conditions  of  the  family  circle, 
caused  the  selection  in  successive  years  of  various  abiding- 
places  in  and  out  of  the  city.  I  can  associate  a  family 
home  with  a  suburb  in  every  direction  from  the  business 
centre  of  New  York.  The  particular  homestead  of  this 
period  was,  though  modest,  in  many  ways  attractive.  The 
principal  difficulty  was  its  distance  from  the  city  (about 
thirty  miles),  a  distance  which  made  it  necessary  for  my 
father  to  keep  a  room  in  town.  He  expected  during  the 
summer  season  to  be  with  his  family  one  or  two  days  in 
the  week,  but  he  was  able  sometimes  to  get  away  for  two 
weekly  visits. 

The  home  circle  at  that  time  included,  in  addition  to 
my  mother,  my  sister  Minnie,  whose  visits  were,  however, 
like  those  of  my  father,  fragmentary  as  she  was  busy 
with  her  medical  training  in  New  York ;  the  second  sister, 
the  permanent  daughter  at  home,  whose  care  and  service 
in  the  household  and  in  the  care  of  the  younger  ones  was 
for  my  mother  all  important;  two  younger  sisters  and 
four  brothers.  The  group  of  eleven  was  completed  some 
years  later  by  the  arrival  of  two  further  brothers.  The 
homestead  was  a  pleasant  old-fashioned  grey  wooden  house 


228  The  Home  Circle  [1862 

standing  on  the  water's  edge,  with  an  attractive  outlook 
down  the  creek  and  out  over  the  Sound.  The  village 
secured  its  living  mainly  through  the  work  of  the  oyster- 
men  and  clam  diggers.  I  had  time  during  this  visit  for 
but  a  hasty  impression  either  of  the  home  circle  or  of  the 
village  neighbours. 

In  passing  through  the  city,  I  had  already  come  into 
immediate  touch  with  the  war  feeling.  On  the  day  of  my 
arrival,  before  we  took  the  train  for  South  Five  Mile 
River,  my  father  had  taken  me  over  to  the  quarters 
selected  for  the  Maine  regiment  that  he  had  been  caring 
for.  Lodgment  had  been  found  for  them  in  an  empty 
store  not  far  from  his  own  business  office.  He  wanted 
to  be  sure  that  they  were  properly  cared  for  and  that  the 
hot  coffee  and  other  tangible  greetings  that  had  been 
ordered  had  been  properly  delivered.  The  men  gave 
him  a  cheer  as  he  came  in,  recognising  his  personal  interest 
in  them  as  well  as  his  ready  public  service  as  a  citizen,  and 
the  sight  of  the  good-looking  youngsters  with  their  blue 
uniforms  and  with  their  thoughts  all  set  "  forward  for  the 
front"  confirmed  me  in  my  own  resolution  that  the 
proper  work  at  that  time,  for  a  fellow  of  my  generation, 
the  oldest  of  five  boys,  was  with  the  troops  at  the  front. 

During  the  few  days  passed  at  home  before  my  depart 
ure  for  the  army,  I  busied  myself  in  securing  from  my 
father  and  others  within  reach  such  information  as  could 
be  gotten  in  regard  to  the  events  of  the  preceding  year  and 
the  beginning  of  war  times  in  New  York.  My  father 
recalled  to  me  the  doubts  that  had  existed  with  Lincoln 
and  other  national  leaders,  and  with  not  a  few  of  the  New 
Yorkers,  as  to  the  attitude  that  the  great  city  would  take 
after  the  outbreak  of  the  war.  There  was  no  good  assur 
ance  that  the  city  as  a  whole  could  be  depended  upon  to 
support  the  fight  for  the  maintenance  of  the  Republic. 
The  population  in  1861,  while  not  quite  as  cosmopolitan 


i862]         New  York  Supports  the  Union         229 

as  in  1914,  was  still  very  much  mixed.  It  included  a  good 
many  Southerners,  while  a  large  number  of  the  Northern- 
born  merchants  had  great  business  interests  depending 
upon  the  trade  and  good  will  of  the  South.  In  1861, 
the  English  population  was,  if  not  positively,  certainly 
relatively,  a  much  more  important  factor  than  it  has  ever 
been  since.  I  believe  that  at  that  time  the  city  was  still 
supporting  a  weekly  journal  called  the  Albion,  published 
for  the  exclusive  interest  of  the  English  residents  of  the 
city. 

Unless  the  great  metropolis  might  be  prepared  to  give 
loyal  support  to  the  Administration  in  money,  in  per 
sonal  influence,  and  co-operation  for  the  organisation 
of  the  volunteer  army,  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  the 
cause  could  succeed.  The  mayor  of  the  city  in  1861  was 
Fernando  Wood,  a  representative  of  the  Tammany  or 
ganisation,  and  a  man  whose  particular  interest  was  not 
in  the  welfare  of  the  community,  but  in  Fernando  Wood. 
He  was  clever  and  unscrupulous.  As  far  as  he  had  any 
political  convictions,  his  sympathies  were  with  the  con 
tentions  of  the  South.  He  had  in  any  case  convinced 
himself  that  there  was  no  prospect  of  maintaining  the 
Republic.  He  believed  that  the  secession  of  the  first 
group  of  Southern  States  was  merely  the  beginning  of 
the  entire  disintegration  of  the  Union. 

He  brought  into  print,  in  1861,  a  pamphlet  entitled 
Tri-Insula,  in  which  he  contended  that  the  interests  of 
the  city  would  be  best  furthered  by  immediate  secession 
on  its  own  part.  He  proposed  that  New  York  should  take 
possession  of  the  three  islands,  Manhattan,  Long  Island, 
and  Staten  Island,  and  should  constitute  with  this 
territory  an  independent  community,  something  of  the 
character  of  the  free  city  of  Hamburg  in  the  time  of  the 
Hanseatic  League.  He  contended  that  the  whole  country 
would  constitute  for  a  city  intelligently  managed  as  a 


230  Fernando  Wood  [1861 

free  port,  the  hinterland  for  the  commerce  of  such  port. 
Wood  was  a  clear-headed  free-trader,  and  he  was  doubtless 
right  in  his  contention  that  a  city  with  a  harbour  like  that 
of  New  York  could,  under  wise  management  and  with  the 
abolition  of  port  charges,  develop  an  increasingly  profit 
able  control  of  the  trade  with  Europe  of  the  territory  of 
the  old-time  United  States.  A  committee  of  one  hun 
dred  loyal  citizens,  the  Chairman  of  which  was  a 
leather  dealer  called  Jackson  S.  Schultz  and  of  which  my 
father  was  a  member,  was  instituted  to  call  the  Mayor 
to  account.  The  committee  went  to  the  City  Hall  and 
Schultz  told  the  Mayor  that  on  the  following  evening 
a  meeting  was  to  be  held  in  Union  Square,  at  which 
New  York  City  was  going  to  express  its  devotion  to 
the  cause  of  the  Union  and  its  readiness  to  give  loyal 
support  to  the  Administration.  "At  that  meeting,"  said 
Schultz,  "the  Mayor  of  New  York  must  speak  and  must 
make  a  speech  in  accord  with  the  sentiments  of  the  loyal 
citizens.  If  he  does  not" — then  Schultz  stopped.  The 
inference  was  pretty  clear.  The  Mayor  who  would  not 
at  this  crisis  express  the  sentiments  of  the  loyal  New 
Yorkers  would  not  long  remain  Mayor.  Wood  grasped 
the  situation  promptly,  and  replied  with  what  might  be 
called  frank  discretion.  "Gentlemen,"  he  said  in  sub 
stance,  "I  recognise  your  committee  as  fairly  representa 
tive  of  the  citizens  of  New  York.  If  these  citizens  have 
decided  that  the  Republic  can  be  preserved  and  that 
New  York  should  take  an  active  part  in  the  work,  you 
have  a  right  so  to  decide,  and  I  may  admit  also  that  you 
have  the  right  to  instruct  your  Mayor  to  express  your 
decision.  I  will  come  to  the  meeting,  and  I  will  speak  in 
accordance  with  the  .conclusions  that  you  have  reached." 
The  meeting  was  held  and  proved  most  effective.  One 
of  the  newspaper  paragraphs  of  the  day  refers  to  the 
utterance  of  a  small  boy  who  had  climbed  up  into  the 


1861]         New  York  Supports  the  Union         231 

crotch  of  a  tree  left  growing  through  the  platform.  Schultz 
had  stated  the  purpose  of  the  meeting,  and  had  introduced 
the  Mayor,  "who,"  said  Schultz,  "will  now  convey  to  the 
President  in  Washington  the  assurance  of  the  loyalty  of 
the  city  of  New  York."  As  Wood  stepped  to  the  front 
of  the  platform  the  newsboy  called  down  from  the  tree, 
"Now,  Nandy,  mind  what  you  say;  you  have  got  to  hold 
to  it  this  time." 

It  was  practically  the  same  group  of  men  who  a  few  days 
later  brought  into  existence  the  Union  League  Club. 
This  club  took  upon  itself  the  responsibility  of  organising 
and  of  maintaining  the  loyal  sentiment  of  the  city,  of 
raising  and  equipping  regiments,  of  securing  the  funds 
required  at  once  for  the  urgent  needs  of  the  Treasury 
that  had  been  emptied  by  Buchanan's  Southern  secretary, 
and  of  making  a  market  first  for  the  five-twenty  and  later 
for  the  seven-thirty  bonds.  Nearly  all  of  the  special 
matters  which  called  for  the  attention  of  citizens  during 
the  four  years  of  war  were  cared  for  in  the  rooms  of  the 
club,  and  it  was  in  the  Union  League  Club  that  my  father 
brought  into  existence  and  active  operation  his  Loyal 
Publication  Society. 

The  reports  that  went  to  Washington  of  the  meeting  in 
Union  Square  and  of  the  organisation  of  the  Union  League 
carried  great  relief  to  Lincoln  and  to  his  associates  in  the 
government.  If  the  great  city  of  New  York  remained 
trustworthy  and  persistent,  the  Union  could  be  saved. 

After  two  or  three  days  spent  at  the  Connecticut  vil 
lage*  giving  report  of  my  proceedings  in  Germany  and 
gathering  in  the  details  of  the  family  news,  I  came  back  to 
the  city  with  my  father  and  went  with  him  to  the  head 
quarters  of  a  regiment  that  was  being  organised  by  some 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  friends  in  whose 
judgment  he  had  confidence.  The  regiment  was  after 
wards  mustered  in  as  the  iy6th  New  York  Volunteers. 


232       The  1 76th  New  York  Volunteers       [1862 

The  officer  who  had  charge  of  the  organisation  was  Mark 
Hoyt,  a  leather  dealer  in  the  Swamp.  He  served  as 
provisional  colonel,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  did  not 
go  to  the  front.  He  was  replaced  at  the  time  that  the 
regiment  was  mustered  in,  some  months  later,  by  Colonel 
Charles  C.  Nott,  a  capable  young  officer  who  had  seen 
service  in  the  West  as  a  captain  in  a  cavalry  regiment. 
After  the  war,  Colonel  Nott,  who  was  a  member  of  the 
New  York  Bar,  rendered  distinguished  service  as  Chief 
Justice  of  the  Court  of  Claims  in  Washington.  The 
lieutenant-colonel  was  A.  J.  H.  Duganne.  Duganne  was  a 
newspaper  man  who -had  been  rather  active  in  politics. 
He  had  no  possible  qualifications  for  his  post  and  the 
service  rendered  by  him  was  on  several  grounds  un 
satisfactory.  The  major  was  Morgan  Morgans  who  was 
a  protege  of  Hoyt.  He  had  had  no  army  experience  but  he 
had  the  right  kind  of  material  in  him  for  the  making  of  a 
good  officer  and  the  regiment  was  very  fortunate  in  having 
with  it  a  man  of  his  stamp.  My  own  enlistment  was  done 
in  Company  E,  the  captain  of  which,  David  D.  Terry,  was 
a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  man  and  a  friend  of  my  father's.  Terry 
was  very  glad  to  have  in  his  company  so  good  a  represen 
tative  of  New  York  and  prophesied  that  I  should  not  long 
remain  in  the  ranks.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  passing  the 
physical  examination.  The  surgeon  remarked  that  there 
was  not  very  much  of  me  but  that  what  there  was 
was  good. 

After  signing  the  mustering  papers,  I  was  accorded 
three  days'  leave  of  absence  in  which  to  settle  my  affairs, 
affairs  which  were  at  that  time  not  very  weighty.  As  we 
came  away  from  the  enlistment  office,  my  father  men 
tioned  in  casual  fashion,  "I  have  some  acquaintance  with 
the  Governor  and  as  I  have  myself  been  working  pretty 
hard  in  organisation  matters  in  New  York,  I  think  it 
probable  that  he  would  give  you  a  lieutenancy  if  I  asked 


I  Begin  Work  as  a  Soldier  233 

him."  "Well,"  I  said,  "I  do  not  know  anything  about 
the  management  of  men  in  the  field  or  even  as  to  drilling 
them  before  we  get  to  the  field.  I  suppose  it  would  be 
wiser  for  me  to  take  a  little  experience  first  and  to  look 
for  my  promotion  afterwards." 

My  father  was  himself  always  inclined  to  take  the 
modest  view  of  things  and,  concluding  that  I  was  right, 
he  made  no  application  for  any  commission.  It  proved 
to  be  an  error  of  judgment  both  ways.  I  found  later 
when  I  got  into  camp,  that  with  the  exception  of  the  new 
colonel  who  was  at  that  time  on  the  invalid  list,  there  was 
hardly  any  one  in  the  regiment,  soldier  or  officer,  who  knew 
any  more  about  active  service  or  very  much  more  about 
drilling  than  I  knew  myself.  I  might  just  as  well  have 
begun  my  service  as  a  lieutenant  and  have  picked  up  my 
training  as  the  others  did  while  they  were  applying  it. 
That  is,  however,  a  later  part  of  the  story. 

My  mother  accepted  with  simple  resignation  the  report 
of  my  action  and  said  that  with  five  boys  she  could  hardly 
have  expected  to  keep  them  all  at  home  during  the  stress  of 
war.  I  turned  over  to  the  home  brothers  my  few  belong 
ings  and  I  remember  taking  pains  among  other  little 
formalities  to  make  my  will.  It  strikes  me  now  as  rather 
an  absurdity  as  there  was  absolutely  nothing  but  a  few 
books  to  bequeath.  At  the  close  of  my  leave  and  in  fact 
with  a  few  hours  to  spare,  I  reported  at  the  camp  in 
Jamaica,  Long  Island,  where  the  companies  were  being 
gathered  together  prior  to  the  organisation  and  mustering 
in  of  the  regiment.  The  camp  itself  was  attractively 
placed  and  in  the  beautiful  August  and  September  weather 
it  could  hardly  be  called  a  hardship  for  a  lot  of  youngsters 
to  bunk  together  in  tents  and  to  put  in  a  certain  number  of 
hours  per  day  to  drilling  and  to  camp  exercises  such  as 
trenching,  tent  raising,  etc.  The  good  people  of  Jamaica 
were  very  ready  with  their  hospitality  and  brought  to  the 


234  The  Camp  in  Jamaica  [1862 

camp  from  day  to  day  more  delicacies  than  we  could  easily 
dispose  of.  After  I  had  been  at  work  for  a  week  or  two  as 
a  private,  I  was  promoted  to  be  sergeant,  and  I  can  now 
remember  the  pride  with  which  I  did  my  first  duty  as  a 
non-commissioned  officer  in  putting  through  the  manual 
of  arms  a  squad  of  recruits  who  were  a  little  newer  than 
myself.  In  the  course  of  another  week  or  two,  I  was 
called  to  headquarters  and  offered  the  appointment  of 
quartermaster-sergeant.  This  carried  with  it  sundry 
advantages  in  regard  to  pay,  larger  responsibilities,  and 
personal  association  with  the  staff  officers  of  the  regiment. 
I  found  afterwards  that  there  were  certain  disadvantages 
in  that  the  non-commissioned  staff  were  considered  out  of 
the  line  of  promotion,  but  that  question  did  not  trouble 
me  at  the  time.  My  quarters  were  moved  from  the  tent 
in  the  field  to  the  wooden  building  that  had  been  put  up  to 
contain  the  quartermaster's  stores. 

The  acting  Quartermaster  was  the  secretary  of  an  insur 
ance  company  in  the  city.  He  was  also  an  active  man  in 
the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  and  in  the  Republican  politics  of  the  day. 
His  activities  involved  him  in  expenditures  beyond  his 
income  and  his  financial  associations  tempted  him  into 
speculation.  Some  months  after  the  regiment  had  gotten 
into  the  field  (the  acting  Quartermaster  had  decided  not 
to  accompany  us),  we  learned^ that  he  had  confessed  to 
serious  appropriations  of  the  moneys  belonging  to  his 
insurance  company.  For  the  time,  however,  I  had 
assumed  that  he  was  all  that  a  patriotic  citizen  ought  to 
be  and  I  accepted  without  question  his  instructions  and  his 
word  in  regard  to  the  business  of  the  quartermaster's 
department,  of  which  naturally  I  had  myself  no  previous 
knowledge.  It  was  only  months  later  that  I  found  out, 
much  to  my  own  mortification,  how  badly  had  been  con 
ducted  this  business  for  which  I  was  myself  in  part  respon 
sible.  It  is  not  likely  that  Mr.  B . 's  appropriations  touched 


1862]  Major  Morgans  235 

the  stores  belonging  to  the  Government,  but  he  had  not 
himself  been  commissioned  as  an  officer  and  had  not  taken 
pains  to  inform  himself  of  the  nature  of  the  responsibilities 
belonging  to  a  quartermaster  who  has  receipted  for 
stores.  These  stores  were  issued  as  called  for  without 
much  reference  to  the  right  of  the  applicant  to  make 
requisition  and  very  frequently  as  it  turned  out  without 
securing  the  necessary  vouchers  duly  approved  by  the 
commanding  officer  of  the  camp.  Similar  difficulties 
must  have  arisen  in  connection  with  many  of  the  camps  of 
organisation ;  somebody  had  to  be  responsible  for  property 
and  somebody  had  to  assume  authority  before  the  regi 
ment  was  mustered  in,  but  until  the  time  of  such  muster 
no  commissions  were  valid  and  the  acting  officers  were  not 
really  in  the  service  of  the  United  States. 

A  nice  question  came  up  during  our  encampment  con 
cerning  this  matter  of  authority  to  act.  The  officer  in 
command  of  the  camp  was  at  the  time  Major  Morgans,  but 
he  was  as  yet  major  only  by  courtesy.  There  had  been  an 
occasional  desertion  and  some  of  the  men  who  had  been  in 
the  field  before  had  emphasised  to  their  associates  the 
troublesome  fact  that  until  the  officers  received  their 
commissions  they  were  not  in  a  position  to  enforce  com 
mands.  One  enterprising  youngster,  on  the  strength  of 
this  bad  advice,  becoming  discontented  with  an  order  to 
stand  guard,  said  that  he  was  going  off  and  started  quite 
openly  to  leave  camp.  The  officer  of  the  guard  reported 
the  case  to  Morgans  and  the  acting  Major  gave  the  would- 
be  deserter  a  caution  that  he  would  leave  at  his  peril.  The 
fellow  started  to  walk  and  then,  as  the  Major  raised  his 
pistol,  to  run,  but  the  pistol  ball  overtook  him,  lodging,  as 
the  Major  had  intended  it  should  lodge,  in  his  arm  where  it 
could  emphasise  the  authority  without  doing  any  per 
manent  injury.  There  was  for  a  time  a  good  deal  of 
uproar  in  camp  on  the  ground  of  this  shooting  at  United 


236  Visitors  to  Camp  [1862 

States  soldiers  on  the  part  of  a  "mere  civilian,"  but  the 
counsels  of  the  wiser  men  among  the  rank  and  file  finally 
prevailed.  B.,  the  fellow  who  had  been  shot,  treasured 
the  bullet  that  had  been  taken  out  of  his  arm,  and  in  his 
foolish  moments  used  occasionally  to  threaten  that  at  the 
first  convenient  time  in  action  he  was  going  to  put  that 
bullet  into  the  Major.  Active  service,  however,  soon 
cleared  away  rubblish  of  this  kind.  B.  became  a  very 
good  soldier  and  was  later  promoted  to  be  first  sergeant  of 
his  company. 

Our  camp  visitors  were  not  limited  to  the  neighbours 
from  Jamaica.  While  in  the  autumn  of  1862  organisation 
camps  were  no  longer  novelties  to  New  Yorkers,  it  was 
still  very  much  the  fashion  for  the  girls,  and  for  that  mat 
ter  for  the  older  folks,  to  make  visits  on  Sunday  and  at 
other  free- times  not  only  to  camps  where  they  had  friends 
but  to  others  where  they  desired  simply  to  give  a  word  of 
greeting  to  the  men  who  were  going  to  the  front.  This 
organisation  period  lasted  for  us  much  longer  than  had 
been  anticipated;  the  first  energy  of  recruiting  had  passed 
by,  while  the  second  stage  of  high  bounties  and  the  third 
stage  of  conscription  were  .still  in  the  future.  We  were 
delayed  until  the  close  of  November  waiting  for  the  last 
one  hundred  men  required  to  complete  the  minimum 
number  for  our  organisation.  ~  During  this  time  there 
was  really  very  little  to  do  beyond  drilling  and  keeping 
the  camp  in  order,  and  we  were  allowed  weekly  leaves 
and  visitors  at  stated  hours.  My  own  sisters  were  natu 
rally  interested  in  inspecting  the  camp  and  in  keeping  in 
touch  with  the  only  member  of  the  immediate  family  who 
was  in  the  service.  On  one  of  the  Sunday  afternoon 
visits,  my  sister  Edith  brought  with  her  a  friend  who 
attracted  me  very  much  at  the  time  and  who  was  after 
wards  to  become  a  very  important  part  of  my  life.  Re 
becca  S.  was  at  that  time  teaching  in  New  York,  where  she 


i862]          Organisation  of  the  Regiment          237 

had  come  to  know  Edith  and  the  two  girls  had  become 
fond  of  each  other.  She  was  a  New  England  girl  with  all 
the  New  England  interest  in  the  war  spirit  and  in  the 
anti-slavery  record  back  of  the  war,  and  was  full  of  enthusi 
asm  for  those  who  had  undertaken  to  do  what  they  could 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  Government.  I  have  a  very 
vivid  picture  in  my  memory  of  the  bright  sunshine  of  her 
face  as  she  stood  by  my  headquarters  wishing  that  she 
were  a  boy  and  could  go  to  the  front.  I  took  pains  later 
with  my  first  leave  of  absence  to  arrange  with  Edith  that 
Rebecca  should  be  spending  that  night  at  the  house  in 
Eighteenth  Street  and  in  the  course  of  the  weeks  that  re 
mained  before  we  took  ship  for  Louisiana  I  had  several 
other  interviews  with  her,  and  the  memory  of  her  keen 
sympathy  and  enthusiastic  interest  in  my  undertaking 
remained  with  me  through  the  long  years  of  service. 

Finally,  in  December,  came  the  time  when  the  regiment 
could  be  called  complete.  The  ten  companies  were  mus 
tered  in  and  the  "officers"  who  had  been  active  in  charge 
of  company  work  or  of  regimental  work  were  called  upon 
to  make  immediate  decision  as  to  whether  they  would  take 
their  service  to  the  front  or  continue  to  give  co-operation 
(also  important  enough)  in  organising  and  in  filling  up 
regiments  from  the  rear.  The  acting  Colonel,  Mark 
Hoyt,  who  had  made  a  very  favourable  impression  on  all 
of  us,  decided,  much  to  our  regret,  not  to  take  his  com 
mission.  His  place  was  filled  by  Charles  C.  Nott,  to 
whom  I  have  already  made  reference.  Nott  had  the 
advantage  of  having  already  seen  active  service.  To  the 
Lieutenant-Colonel,  A.  J.  H.  Duganne,  reference  has  also 
been  made.  He  was  no  good  as  a  soldier  and  the  country 
would  have  been  better  served  if  he  had  stayed  at  home 
and  devoted  himself  to  his  oratory.  In  connection  with 
the  illness  and  the  long  imprisonment  of  the  Colonel,  the 
efficiency  of  the  regiment  during  the  first  eighteen  months 


238  The  Quartermaster  [1862 

of  its  existence  was  due  almost  entirely  to  the  pluck,  per 
sistency,  patience,  and  clear-headedness  of  Major  Morgans. 
The  captains  were  a  "fair  to  average"  lot.  They  were 
well  meaning  men,  but  for  the  most  part  a  little  too  old 
to  assimilate  readily  the  military  training.  The  com 
panies  were  better  commanded  eighteen  months  later 
when  we  youngsters  secured  our  promotions.  The  sur 
geon,  Dr.  Willetts,  was  a  capable  physician  from  Brooklyn, 
who  had  from  pure  public  spirit  surrendered  a  remunera 
tive  practice.  He  was  a  good  friend  of  mine  and  I  think 
I  may  say  that  I  owed  my  life  to  him  later.  The  Adjutant 
came  of  a  family  with  which  the  Putnams  had  already  been 
closely  associated.  His  name  was  Alexander  Duer  Irving 
and  he  was  a  nephew  of  my  father's  old  friend  Washing 
ton  Irving.  He  had  the  education  and  the  nature  of  a 
gentleman  and  did  good  service  up  to  the  time  of  his 
capture.  The  Quartermaster,  whose  personality  was  for 
myself  as  Quartermaster-Sergeant  a  matter  of  some 
importance,  could  hardly  be  called  a  success.  He  was  a 
broken-down  business  man  who  had,  as  far  as  I  could 
judge,  secured  the  appointment  as  a  political  favour  and 
because  he  needed  the  not  very  considerable  salary.  His 
business  troubles  had  weakened  his  self-control  and  I 
found  very  shortly  after  he  arrived  in  camp  that  his 
drinking  habits  were  getting  the  better  of  him.  As  a  fact, 
some  ten  months  after  we  reached  Louisiana  he  died  of 
delirium-tremens.  My  task  would  have  been  easier  if  he 
had  died  very  much  earlier.  It  is  always  difficult  to 
manage  a  responsibility  on  behalf  of  another.  When 
one's  chief  is  drunk  most  of  the  time  and  very  irritable  and 
unreasonable  in  between  times,  and  when  in  addition  he 
has  no  possible  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  his  responsi 
bilities  so  that  the  instructions  given  by  him  have  the 
result  of  mixing  up  matters  instead  of  straightening  out 
business,  the  task  of  the  subordinate  is  a  wearing  one. 


The  Quartermaster  239 

Apart  from  these  general  difficulties,  I  found  shortly 
after  we  were  placed  on  shipboard  cause  for  special  anxi 
ety.  The  acting  Quartermaster,  B had  induced  his 

successor,  K ,  to  give  a  receipt  for  enough  stores  under 

all  the  headings  to  balance  B.'s  accounts.  B.  admitted 
that  some  things  were  missing  that  were  not  represented 
by  the  vouchers  but  he  emphasised  with  K.  that,  while 
such  a  deficiency  might  be  serious  for  the  authorities  in  a 
camp  at  home,  no  attention  whatever  was  paid  to  such 
matters  with  a  command  in  the  field.  It  was  perfectly 
well  understood  that  stores  are  being  lost  all  the  time  in 
action  or  on  the  march.  "You  will  find,  K.,  that  the 
Quartermaster-General  in  New  Orleans  is  too  busy  to 
trouble  himself  with  any  such  details  as  the  balance  sheet 
of  a  regiment."  K.  was,  as  stated,  quite  ignorant,  and 
at  the  time  of  the  adjustment  of  these  accounts  he  was 
probably  pretty  drunk.  He  gave  B.  the  receipts  re 
quired  and  this  division  at  least  of  B.'s  accounts  was 
for  him  satisfactorily  adjusted.  When,  however,  on  ship 
board,  in  a  half  sober  moment,  the  anxious  K.  began  to 
look  over  the  figures  and  had  ascertained  that  he  had  made 
himself  responsible  for  some  thousand  of  dollars'  worth  of 
property  that  was  not  within  his  control,  he  became  very 
angry  indeed,  and  finding  nobody  else  on  whom  to  vent 
his  anger,  he  exploded  on  the  Quartermaster-Sergeant. 
He  took  the  ground  that  I  must  have  known  of  these 
deficiences  and  that  I  had  put  myself  into  collusion  with 
B.  to  cheat  the  United  States  and  himself.  He  did  not 
content  himself  with  scolding  me  but  brought  the  charge 
to  the  attention  of  the  Colonel.  The  Colonel  did  not  take 
the  time  at  the  moment  to  examine  into  the  matter;  he 
was  too  busy  with  many  details  in  connection  with  the 
organisation  of  a  command  that  he  had  joined  only  the 
week  before  we  sailed.  It  was  not  until  some  months 
later  that  he  arrived  at  a  more  accurate  knowledge  of 


240  The  Quartermaster  [1862] 

K.'s  inadequacies.  The  accusations  against  myself,  how 
ever,  remained  in  his  mind,  and,  as  he  told  me  frankly 
afterwards,  gave  him  some  preliminary  prejudices  against 
the  Quartermaster-Sergeant,  a  prejudice  that  delayed  for 
some  months  his  recommendation  for  my  promotion. 


XII 
THe  Invasion  of  Louisiana 

THE  regiment  had  been  assigned  to  the  expedition 
that,  under  the  leadership  of  General  Banks,  was 
to  take  possession  of  the  city  of  New  Orleans, 
recently  captured  by  Admiral  Farragut,  and  was  to  occupy 
as  large  an  extent  of  territory  as  could  readily  be  controlled 
from  New  Orleans.  The  main  purpose,  or  at  least, 
speaking  from  a  military  point  of  view,  the  more  intelli 
gent  purpose,  of  the  expedition  was  to  force  the  passage 
of  the  Mississippi  northwards  from  New  Orleans  so  that  a 
connection  might  be  effected  with  the  armies  of  the  West, 
led  first  by  Grant  and  later  by  Sherman,  which  were  to 
work  their  way  southward.  This  purpose  was,  as  we 
know,  finally  accomplished,  but  owing  partly  to  vacil 
lating  counsels  from  Washington  and  partly  to  the  pig- 
headedness  and  incapacity  of  Banks,  a  good  deal  of 
important  time  was  wasted  and  not  a  few  valuable  lives 
thrown  away. 

The  force  assigned  to  the  expedition  comprised  about 
twenty  thousand  men.  The  demands  upon  the  trans 
portation  department  of  the  army  had  during  the  pre 
ceding  six  months  been  very  great  and  the  facilities  were 
nearly  exhausted.  The  first  divisions  of  Banks's  troops 
were  forwarded  to  New  Orleans  on  steamers,  but  before 
the  time  came  for  the  shipment  of  the  regiments  last  in 

16  241 


242  The  Regiment  at  Sea  [1862 

readiness,  the  steamers  had  given  out  and  there  was 
nothing  left  for  the  iy6th  New  York  but  a  couple  of  old 
whaling  vessels.  These  vessels  belonged  to  the  New 
Bedford  fleet  and  had  recently  returned  from  a  three 
years'  cruise  in  the  Arctic  Ocean.  Their  names  were  the 
William  Woodbury  and  the  Alice  Counce.  The  division 
of  the  regiment  to  which  the  non-commissioned  staff 
belonged  was  assigned  to  the  Alice  Counce.  The  vessels 
had  been  cleaned  hurriedly  and  had  been  fitted  as  far  as 
was  practicable  for  the  reception  of  the  troops.  Each 
ship  carried  in  addition  to  the  working  crew  of  sailors 
about  450  soldiers.  The  men  were  bunked  between  decks, 
having  quarters  very  similar  to  those  which  were  utilised 
in  the  old  slave-trade  traffic.  It  was,  of  course,  impractic 
able  without  an  undue  weakening  of  the  vessels  to  arrange 
for  any  portholes.  Between  decks  was,  therefore,  dark 
and  unventilated  excepting  in  so  far  as  the  weather  per 
mitted  of  the  opening  of  a  hatch.  In  the  heaviest  weather 
(and  our  trip  included  some  very  tidy  storms)  all  the 
hatches  but  one  had  to  be  closed  and  a  couple  of  guards 
stood  over  that  to  push  it  back  a  little  in  between  the 
waves  so  as  to  allow  for  an  occasional  draft  of  air. 

The  bunks  were  arranged  to  hold  four  sleepers.  They 
were  big  enough  for  this  purpose  and  while  the  vessel  was 
on  an  even  keel  each  sleeper,  was  supposed  to  occupy  his 
own  share  of  the  space.  A  little  rolling,  however,  soon 
mixed  up  the  calculation,  and  in  the  heavier  weather,  we 
had  by  morning  become  so  mixed  up  in  these  bunks  that 
it  was  difficult  for  us  to  know  what  name  to  answer  to  at 
roll-call.  It  was  my  own  feeling  that  in  these  bunks, 
as  in  the  shaking  up  of  a  peck  of  potatoes,  the  little  ones 
always  got  to  the  bottom.  I  know  that  my  dreams  during 
the  first  week  of  the  voyage  nearly  always  included  some 
nightmare  of  being  under  a  mountain  or  of  having  a  man 
falling  upon  me. 


i862]  The  Regiment  at  Sea  243 

I  recall,  however,  that  during  one  night  I  had  the  bunk 
for  a  little  time  all  to  myself.  The  weather  was  heavy 
and  the  seas  were  tumbling  on  board  every  few  minutes. 
One  persistent  wave  managed  to  get  through  the  half- 
opened  hatch,  and  as  the  water  came  down,  the  binnacle 
lights  were  extinguished.  The  guardians  of  the  hatch 
had  been  driven  off,  and  a  mass  of  water  swashed 
about  between  decks  in  the  darkness.  Somebody  called 
out  that  the  vessel  was  going  down.  There  was  a  mo 
mentary  excitement  and  the  men  tumbled  out  of  their 
bunks.  Our  lot  included  three  country  companies  from 
up-State  counties.  They  were  stalwart  boys  who  did  not 
take  kindly  to  the  sea;  they  were  seasick,  miserable,  and 
anxious.  At  the  sound  of  the  alarm,  they  hurried  out  of 
the  bunks  and  began  feeling  about  in  the  darkness  for 
their  boots.  I  had  been  pretty  miserable  myself  but  I 
did  not  believe  that  the  vessel  was  going  down  and  I  lay 
back  in  my  corner  of  the  bunk  chuckling  while  these  coun 
try  boys  were  feeling  about  in  the  swashing  water  for 
boots  that  had  become  very  much  mixed  and  that  would 
even  when  found  be  very  difficult  to  put  on.  Why  men 
who  expected  to  drown  should  want  to  go  down  in  their 
boots  I  could  not  understand.  It  was  some  time  before 
the  alarm  was  allayed  and  I  then  had  fresh  cause  for 
objection  as  when  the  fellows  tumbled  back  into  my  bunk 
they  were  not  only  cross  but  wet.  The  next  morning 
there  was  great  confusion  in  the  matter  of  boots.  Every 
body  had  everybody  else's  and  nobody  was  satisfied. 

Fortunately  for  my  comfort,  after  I  had  been  a  week  at 
sea,  it  was  decided  that  the  non-commissioned  staff  were 
entitled  to  better  quarters.  We  had  bunks  arranged  for 
us  that  held  only  two  and  I  was  happy  enough  to  be 
chummed  with  the  hospital  steward  who  was  no  bigger 
than  I  was.  This  change  impressed  me  as  a  great  luxury. 

Our   sojourn   on   the  Alice    Counce   lasted   altogether 


244  The  Regiment  at  Sea  [1862 

about  forty  days.  During  five  or  six  days  we  were  held 
up  at  Hampton  Roads  awaiting  orders  or  instructions  of 
some  kind  or  other.  This  sojourn  in  the  Roads  might 
itself  have  been  interesting  if  we  had  been  allowed  oppor 
tunity  of  visiting  the  camps  on  shore,  but  (partly  I  believe 
because  sailing  orders  were  expected  from  hour  to  hour) 
the  men  were  kept  closely  on  board.  By  the  time  we  had 
arrived  off  Hatteras  a  heavy  December  gale  had  begun 
to  blow.  Fortunately  its  trend  was  eastward  so  that 
we  were  blown  offshore,  and  I  believe  that  we  must  have 
traversed  a  good  portion  of  the  distance  towards  the 
African  coast.  When  the  gale  was  over,  we  made  our 
way  back  by  tacks  against  adverse  winds  until  finally  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico  was  reached.  There  we  found  no  winds 
either  favourable  or  adverse  and  we  lay  becalmed  for  a 
week  or  more.  The  life  was  a  lazy  one.  The  duties  on 
shipboard  comprised  merely  keeping  the  vessel  "  redded 
up"  and  going  through  a  morning  drill  at  manual  of  arms. 
I  had  a  little  accounting  to  do  in  connection  with  keeping 
track  of  the  Quartermaster's  stores  and  in  the  hopeless 
attempt  to  straighten  out  the  most  imperfectly  prepared 
records  and  vouchers  handed  over  by  the  old  Quarter 
master.  I  was  also  supposed  to  have  some  responsibilities 
in  keeping  my  immediate  chief,  the  new  Quartermaster, 
from  getting  drunk  too  frequently.  But  in  this  task  I  had 
very  trifling  success. 

We  were  allowed  to  do  some  fishing  in  the  Gulf, 
and  after  a  good  many  applications,  we  were  per 
mitted  to  make  trial  of  the  swimming,  the  calm  blue 
water  looking  very  inviting.  The  objection  to  the 
swimming  experiment  was,  of  course,  the  fact  that  the 
waters  were  filled  with  sharks.  The  navigating  officer 
(who  had  with  his  crew  been  turned  over  with  the  vessel 
under  the  charter)  suggested  a  plan  under  which  the 
men  might  get  their  bath  without  undue  risk ;  a  mainsail, 


i862]  The  Regiment  at  Sea  245 

secured  at  the  four  corners,  was  lowered  over  the  side  of 
the  vessel  and  was  triced  up  from  the  corners  to  the 
maintop.  It  sank  below  the  surface  sufficiently  to  make 
a  big  bath-tub  which  would  permit  splashing  about 
although  there  was  hardly  space  for  swimming.  The 
bathers  were  strictly  prohibited  from  going  out  into  the 
open.  One  or  two  rash  youngsters,  however,  evading 
the  prohibition,  dashed  out  from  the  shelter  of  the  sail 
for  a  hurried  swim.  A  cry  of  warning  came  from  the 
deck.  One  of  the  men  on  watch  had  seen  gliding  over  the 
surface  the  little  triangular  fin  that  marked  the  approach 
of  the  shark.  There  was  a  scurrying  back  to  the  sail, 
which  all  reached  in  safety.  The  last  comer,  however, 
was  very  closely  under  the  nose  of  his  pursuer  and  the 
shark  in  its  eagerness  or  possibly  having  too  much  speed 
on  to  be  able  to  stop  itself,  tumbled  over  the  edge  of  the 
sail  and  lay  in  the  shallow  water  on  its  back,  flapping  its 
tremendous  tail  and  showing  the  long  line  of  threatening 
teeth.  The  men  in  the  sail  naturally  scattered  to  the 
corners,  the  risk  in  this  case  being  not  so  much  from  the 
teeth  of  the  shark  as  from  the  blow  of  the  tail.  With 
the  aid  of  the  rope  ladder,  the  sail  was  pretty  promptly 
emptied,  the  fellows  hurrying  up  to  the  deck  without  much 
observance  of  the  order  of  their  coming.  The  sailors 
tried  to  get  a  noose  over  the  head  of  the  shark  but  he 
made  his  way  into  the  deeper  water  of  the  sail,  and  with 
the  impetus  therein  secured,  managed  to  tumble  out 
again  into  the  open  ocean.  I  imagine  he  must  have  been 
rather  puzzled  at  meeting  in  his  own  domain  this  kind  of 
a  bath-tub. 

This  incident  stopped  the  sea  bathing  and  we  were 
obliged  to  go  back  to  the  quieter  amusements  of  the  deck, 
amusements  which  included  checkers,  chess,  and  for  some 
of  the  men  the  beginnings  of  poker.  I  had  one  or  two 
books  with  me  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  se- 


246  The  Gulf  of  Mexico  [1862 

eluded  spot  in  the  mizzentop  which  was  wide  enough  for  a 
youngster  of  my  size  to  lie  out  in  a  comfortable  position. 
I  have  a  very  pleasant  memory  of  lying  in  the  top  pro 
tected  by  the  folds  of  the  sail  above  from  the  glare  of  the 
sun  and  soothed  by  the  cradle-like  motion  of  the  ship  as 
she  rolled  slowly  with  the  long  slow  swell  of  the  Gulf 
Stream.  In  this  cradle  of  the  Gulf  I  read  through  Pol 
lock's  Course  of  Time,  and  for  the  sake  of  variety,  Moore's 
Lalla  Rookh.  I  also  found  time  for  a  re-perusal  of  the  Old 
Testament  and  for  some  daily  studying  of  Casey's  Tactics. 
The  youngsters  of  our  day  had  a  faith  similar  to  that 
possessed  by  the  soldiers  of  Napoleon's  Grande  Armee,  each 
of  whom  was  buoyed  up  by  the  hope  that  he  carried  a 
marshal's  baton  in  his  knapsack.  We  looked  forward 
with  confidence  to  the  larger  responsibilities  of  com 
missions  and  took  pains  to  prepare  ourselves  as  far  as 
possible  so  that  we  might  not  be  taken  unawares  if  the 
honour  should  come  suddenly.  The  publisher  Van  Nos- 
trand,  who  was  a  man  of  my  father's  generation,  told  my 
father  that  during  the  first  two  years  of  the  war  he  found 
sale  for  300,000  sets  of  Casey's  Tactics  in  three  volumes. 
The  Casey  volumes  scattered  themselves  over  hundreds  of 
battle-fields  east  and  west.  General  Casey  had,  in  1861, 
been  charged  by  the  War  Department  with  the  task  of 
preparing  a  new  manual  which  should  replace  that  of 
Hardee.  Har dee's  Manual  had  been  the  guide  of  the 
army  for  a  number  of  years  but  when  the  old  General 
had  accepted  a  commission  under  the  Confederacy,  it  did 
not  seem  quite  fitting  that  the  soldiers  of  the  United 
States  should  continue  to  do  their  campaigning  under 
Hardee's  rules.  I  imagine  that,  apart  from  the  name  on 
the  volume,  the  difference  of  the  system  was  not  very 
important.  Both  systems  are  now  matters  of  the  past. 
The  whole  routine  of  drill  has  been  changed  in  the  direc 
tion  of  greater  simplification  and  greater  elasticity,  a 


The  Mississippi  247 

change  brought  about  as  the  result  of  the  practical  experi 
ence  of  four  years'  campaigning  in  varied  country.  The 
troops  that  Sherman  led  through  Georgia  were  not  ham 
pered  by  undue  respect  for  "pipe  clay." 

Even  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  calm  comes  to  an  end 
sometime,  and  after  eight  or  nine  days  of  quiet  loafing,  we 
finally  secured  easterly  winds  strong  enough  to  bring  us  to 
Ship  Island  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi.  There  we 
were  held  for  a  day  or  two  and  the  other  vessels  that  had 
left  in  our  company  gathered  together,  forming  quite  a 
little  fleet.  The  white  sand  of  Ship  Island  looked  very 
inviting  after  the  cramped  space  of  the  ship's  deck  and 
permission  was  easily  obtained  for  the  men  to  row  them 
selves  ashore.  I  was  myself  a  passenger  in  one  of  the 
first  boats.  We  threw  ourselves  on  the  beach  wondering 
what  purpose  such  an  island  (which  was  but  a  sand-bar) 
had  to  serve  in  the  wisdom  of  the  creation.  As  soon 
however  as  our  forms  had  pressed  into  the  yielding  sand, 
the  surface,  which  was  at  first  perfectly  white,  became 
suddenly  blackened  over  with  sand-fleas.  These  fellows 
had  been  lying  under  the  sand  for  years  and  years  waiting 
for  the  chance  of  a  nip  at  a  Yankee.  Their  attacks  were 
so  ferocious  that  we  were  fairly  demoralised.  There  was 
no  way  of  getting  rid  of  the  beasts  except  by  plunging  into 
the  water.  We  promptly  signalled  to  be  taken  back  to  the 
ship,  where  some  hours  were  spent  in  wreaking  vengeance 
upon  such  of  the  black  gentlemen  as  had  accompanied  us. 

The  first  sight  of  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  was  partic 
ularly  interesting  to  those  of  us  whose  experience  had  been 
restricted  to  Northern  lands.  The  land  and  water  were  here 
so  much  mingled  together  that  it  took  a  pretty  clear  sight 
to  distinguish  the  line  of  separation.  This  line  was  in  any 
case  not  fixed;  the  bars  and  muddy  islets  varied  in  shape 
and  in  position  according  to  the  condition  of  the  winds  and 
the  tides,  and  were  also  subject  to  very  material  changes 


248  The  Mississippi  [1862 

after  the  heavy  spring  floods.  I  do  not  yet  understand 
how  the  pilots  of  the  Mississippi  could  keep  their  know 
ledge  adjusted  from  day  to  day  to  the  ever-shifting  con 
ditions.  The  perplexity  as  to  the  pilots  with  whom  our 
commanders  had  at  this  time  to  do  was,  however,  not  so 
much  in  regard  to  their  knowledge  of  the  conditions  as  to 
their  trustworthiness  in  utilising  such  knowledge  for  guid 
ing  Yankee  vessels  up  the  river.  Open  treachery  was,  of 
course,  out  of  the  question,  but  with  the  best  pilots  acci 
dents  will  happen  and  I  judge  that  the  mischances  that 
happened  to  General  Banks' s  fleet  during  this  season 
covered  every  possible  disaster.  I  was  told  afterwards 
that  one  or  two  pilots  had  been  put  in  jail  for  misconduct 
and  that  one  man  had  been  shot.  It  must  have  been 
rather  difficult,  however,  for  an  impartial  investigation  to 
secure  final  satisfactory  evidence  as  to  treachery. 

Some  tugs  had  been  secured  from  New  Orleans,  a  hun 
dred  and  eighty  miles  above,  by  aid  of  which  the  vessels 
were  slowly  pulled  across  the  shallows  and  steered  around 
into  the  channel  above  the  bar.  One  of  the  whalers  went 
aground  in  a  bad  place  and  was  still  stuck  in  the  mud  at  the 
time  we  left,  her  passengers  being  divided  up  among  the 
rest  of  the  fleet;  another,  fortunately  one  of  the  smaller 
craft,  took  a  mud  bank  the  wrong  way  on  and  careened 
over,  tipping  her  crew  into  the  water.  I  believe  that  they 
were  all  saved.  The  Alice  Counce  came  through  without 
accident  and  in  tow  with  the  William  Woodbury,  contain 
ing  the  other  half  of  our  battalion,  we  were  tugged  slowly 
up  the  river.  We  passed  the  lower  lighthouses,  one  or  two 
of  which  had  been  reconstructed,  and  long  lines  of  low- 
lying  banks  back  of  which  could  be  seen  the  heavier 
green  of  the  gum-tree  swamp  forests.  The  banks  gradu 
ally  increased  in  height  and  the  mass  of  the  forests  came 
nearer  to  the  edge  of  the  river,  while  here  and  there  we 
caught  sight  of  oases  of  dry  ground  with  small  settle- 


New  Orleans  249 

ments,  comprising  often  only  the  single  plantation  house 
and  the  group  of  negro  cabins  about. 

Finally,  around  a  sharp  curve  and  where  the  current 
of  the  river  through  a  narrow  course  ran  with  special 
swiftness,  we  came  to  the  famous  forts,  St.  Philip  and 
Jackson,  above  which  now  floated  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 
The  wrecks  of  the  Confederate  war  fleet  and  of  the  two 
Yankee  vessels  which  had  come  to  grief  in  the  attack  were 
still  in  evidence  along  the  shore.  The  earth  banks  of  the 
forts  seemed  to  have  suffered  but  little  from  our  bombard 
ment  and  it  was  in  fact  the  case,  as  the  accounts  of  Farra- 
gut's  victory  made  clear,  that  the  only  important  damage 
done  to  the  forts  was  through  the  falling  of  the  shells  from 
the  mortars.  The  broadsides  from  the  Hartford,  the 
Brooklyn,  and  their  companions,  while  sufficiently  destruc 
tive  for  the  Rebel  vessels,  did  very  little  injury  to  the 
garrisons  of  the  fort.  The  mortars  had  been  placed  on 
the  decks  of  schooners,  which  were  towed  to  a  point  just 
below  the  forts  where  they  were  hidden  and  in  a  measure 
protected  by  the  masses  of  the  swamp  trees.  This  flo 
tilla  of  mortar  schooners  had  been  organised  as  a  result  of 
the  success  secured  by  a  similar  bombardment  first  of 
Fort  Donelson  on  the  Cumberland  and  later  of  New  Ma 
drid  and  Island  Number  10  on  the  upper  Mississippi. 

I  think  we  must  have  been  three  days  or  more  going 
up  the  river,  and  as  after  leaving  the  forts  the  scenery 
became  again  monotonous  it  was  both  a  relief  and  a  satis 
faction  finally  to  get  within  sight  of  the  levees  and  the 
spires  of  New  Orleans.  It  was  very  satisfactory  to  see 
flying  over  the  Custom  House,  which  was  the  nearest 
prominent  building  within  reach  from  the  river,  the  flag 
that  had  been  placed  there  by  the  marine  who  accom 
panied  Captain  Bailey  at  the  time  of  the  so-called  surrender 
of  the  city.  The  story  of  the  landing  from  the  Hartford 
of  its  flag  officer  Bailey,  accompanied  by  a  single  middy 


250  New  Orleans  [1862 

and  one  marine,  and  of  their  march  unharmed  through  a 
howling  and  threatening  crowd  to  the  Custom  House  on 
Canal  Street,  has  been  told  in  various  of  the  war  histories. 
The  Mayor,  who  received  from  Captain  Bailey  the  de 
mand  for  the  surrender  of  the  city  and  for  the  hauling 
down  of  the  Confederate  flag,  declined  to  take  any  action 
in  the  matter.  He  insisted  that  the  responsibility  rested 
with  the  Rebel  General  Lovell,  but  as  General  Lovell  had 
gotten  out  of  the  way  with  such  troops  as  he  controlled, 
Bailey  had  no  one  to  whom  to  apply.  His  own  marine 
was  finally  sent  to  the  roof  of  the  Custom  House  to  take 
down  the  Stars  and  Bars  and  to  replace  it  with  the  Stars 
and  Stripes.  The  halyards  had  been  cut,  the  Confederate 
flag  had  been  left  nailed  to  the  top  of  the  mast,  and  the 
mast  itself  had  been  greased.  Below  in  Canal  Street, 
stood  the  crowd,  surging,  yelling,  and  pointing  not  only 
pistols  which  would  not  carry  but  rifles  that  would.  Dis 
regarding  everything  but  Captain  Bailey's  instructions, 
the  marine  pulled  himself  up  the  greased  pole,  carrying 
in  the  bosom  of  his  shirt  a  hammer  and  nails  and  carrying 
in  his  teeth  the  American  flag.  The  Stars  and  Bars  were 
torn  down,  the  American  flag  was  nailed  up,  and  the 
marine  slowly  slipped  down  the  pole.  The  threats  were 
many  but  not  a  shot  was  fired  and  through  the  same  howl 
ing  mob  Captain  Bailey,  his  middy,  and  his  marine,  with 
the  captured  flag  in  his  shirt,  made  their  way  back  to  the 
levee  and  to  the  Hartford.  A  word  of  caution  was  given 
by  Captain  Bailey  to  the  crowd  as  his  boat  drew  up  to 
receive  him.  "If  anything  happens  to  that  flag  or  if  any 
shot  is  fired  on  this  boat,  the  guns  of  the  Hartford  will 
open  on  the  levee."  That  word,  passed  through  the 
crowd,  proved  to  be  sufficient  to  keep  them  under  some 
kind  of  control,  but  they  were  doubtless  also  influenced 
by  a  real  respect  for  the  pluck  of  the  three  men  who, 
single-handed,  had  taken  possession  of  New  Orleans. 


A  Fire  Company  251 

The  two  divisions  of  my  regiment,  now  re-united  on  the 
levee,  were  marched  to  Lafayette  Square,  where  we  made 
our  first  encampment  on  Southern  soil.  I  remember 
that  the  first  night's  sojourn  in  New  Orleans  (the  night 
was  too  broken  to  call  it  a  sleep)  was  varied  by  the 
excitement  of  a  fire  near  the  square.  Our  regiment  and 
the  13  ist  New  York  which  shared  the  square  with  us  con 
tained  a  number  of  men  who  had  done  service  with  the 
volunteer  fire  companies  of  New  York.  No  discipline 
was  adequate  to  keep  these  men  within  the  confines  of 
the  square  when  the  familiar  sound  of  the  fire  bell  came 
to  their  ears,  and  when  the  sentry  lines  had  once  been 
broken,  the  rest  of  us  followed  out  as  a  matter  of  course. 
A  year  later  when  we  had  all  become  "old  soldiers,"  the 
ranks  would  have  been  better  preserved.  The  New 
Yorkers  were  amused  at  the  inadequacy  of  the  little  fire 
engines  which  undertook  to  control  the  not  very  serious 
conflagration  and  were  still  more  impatient  with  the 
incompetency  of  the  New  Orleans  men  who  were 
directing  the  engines.  It  is  fair  to  the  repute  of  the  New 
Orleans  fire  companies  to  remember  that  the  active 
youngsters  among  them  had  promptly  taken  service  in 
the  regiments  raised  from  the  city.  Their  places  had 
been  filled  by  older  men  who  were  for  the  most  part 
physically  incapable  of  service  in  the  field,  and  therefore 
equally  incompetent  to  do  very  energetic  work  as  fire 
men.  The  patience  of  the  New  Yorkers  did  not  last  very 
long.  After  a  few  minutes'  inspection  of  the  operations, 
they  dashed  in,  knocked  away  from  the  engines  the  aged 
men  (who  were  perhaps  not  entirely  unwilling  to  be 
relieved  from  the  task),  took  charge  of  the  building, 
established  fire  lines,  and  finished  up  the  fire  in  business 
like  shape.  I  think  I  heard  some  expressions  of  regret 
that  the  conflagration  in  question  was  not  large  enough  to 
give  any  fair  scope  to  their  skill. 


252  A  Fire  Brigade  [1863 

We  were  called  into  line  at  guard-mount  the  next 
morning  to  be  reprimanded  for  our  insubordination  by 
the  Adjutant-General  of  the  post.  His  reproof  was, 
properly  enough,  the  more  severe  against  the  officers  who 
should  have  kept  the  men  under  control  than  against  the 
men  themselves.  One  result  of  the  escapade  was,  how 
ever,  the  prompt  organisation  of  a  military  fire  brigade 
for  the  city,  at  the  head  of  which  was  placed  the  Major  of 
the  1 3  ist,  an  old-time  captain  of  one  of  the  crack  New  York 
fire  companies.  This  fire  brigade  was  so  well  handled 
that,  notwithstanding  a  good  many  beginnings  of  fires 
(some  of  which  were  probably  incendiary,  although  it 
was  more  likely  that  the  burnings  were  started  for  the 
sake  of  plunder  than  on  any  military  grounds),  no  seri 
ous  conflagrations  occurred  during  our  occupancy  of  the 
city. 

A  more  important  service  for  the  city  which  took 
shape  later  but  which  may  be  referred  to  here,  was  the 
organisation  of  a  military  health  department,  the  direction 
of  which  was  confided  to  a  surgeon  of  one  of  the  Boston 
regiments.  The  Southerners,  particularly  the  women,  had 
been  quite  free  with  their  prophecies  that  while  we  might 
take  the  city,  we  should  not  be  able  to  hold  it.  "Why," 
they  said,  "with  the  first  summer  season  the  fever  will 
tire  out  you  uns. "  As  a  fact,  New  Orleans  had  in  peace 
times  not  been  considered  a  safe  abiding  place  for  North 
erners  during  the  fever  months  of  the  year.  It  proved 
practicable,  however,  through  the  intelligent  co-operation 
of  our  military  health  department  with  the  military 
street-cleaning  service,  to  secure  for  the  city  a  standard 
of  cleanliness  that  had  never  before  been  known,  and 
during  the  three  years  of  our  occupancy,  while  there  were 
sporadic  cases  of  yellow  fever  and  while  the  swamp  fever 
or  malarious  fever  were  with  us  continually,  there  was  no 
epidemic. 


1863]  Fighting  Yellow  Fever  253 

The  street-cleaning  work  was  put  into  the  hands  of  a 
New  York  officer,  who  organised  a  corps  of  coloured  work 
ers.  Some  special  engineering  was  from  time  to  time 
required  in  order  to  keep  the  waters  of  Lake  Pontchartrain 
from  backing  in  upon  the  sewers  and  pushing  out  the 
contents  into  the  streets.  It  is  my  impression  that 
pumping  apparatus  was  established  at  the  lake  which  was 
brought  into  operation  when  through  south-westerly 
winds  the  lake  waters  became  seriously  high.  The 
streets  of  the  city  were  in  large  part  below  the  normal 
level  of  the  river,  and  at  the  time  of  the  spring  floods  the 
difference  was  very  considerable.  With  heavy  rains, 
there  was  no  adequate  outlet  for  the  water  and  the  sewers 
promptly  became  choked.  As  a  result  the  streets  would 
fill  up  with  water  to  a  depth  of  from  one  to  six  inches. 
Crossing  was  possible  only  through  large  stepping-stones 
placed  for  the  purpose,  stones  which  proved  to  be  not  a 
little  inconvenient  in  the  management,  in  the  dark  hours, 
of  vehicles  or  horses. 

It  was  our  fortune  to  reach  Louisiana  during  the  rainy 
season.  New  Orleans  seemed  to  us,  after  one  or  two 
experiences  of  swamping  rains,  a  wet  enough  place,  but 
when  we  were  taken  out  to  our  first  country  camp  a  few 
miles  out  of  the  city,  we  really  realised  what  damp 
conditions  were.  The  rain  was  pretty  steady  for  five  or 
six  weeks.  I  have  a  memory  of  the  water  coming  down 
not  in  drops  but  in  continuous  streams.  Then,  as  before 
explained,  it  did  not  run  off  as  there  was  no  place  to  run 
off  to.  The  river  was  taking  its  course  over  its  ridge  of 
hills.  I  now  realised  the  meaning  of  a  reference  that  I 
had  before  heard  to  lower  Louisiana  as  the  country  where 
there  is  but  one  hill  and  that  the  river  runs  over  the  top 
of. 

Our  second  camp  was  on  a  piece  of  ground  which,  during 
a  part  of  the  year  at  least,  must  have  been  dry,  a  few 


254  The  Rainy  Season  [1863 

hundred  feet  back  of  the  levee.  Half  a  mile  farther  in 
land,  began  the  swamp  which  during  nine  months  of  the 
year  served  to  drain  the  strip  of  plantation  land.  During 
the  other  three  months  when  the  water  in  the  swamp  was 
high,  the  plantation  had  to  give  up  any  hope  of  being 
drained.  It  was  during  these  " other  months"  that  our 
experience  began.  We  had  tents  and  after  a  little  experi 
ence  we  learned  to  dig  ditches  around  the  tents,  and  with 
some  delay  on  the  part  of  the  quartermaster's  department, 
we  finally  secured  planking  for  floors.  While  we  were 
waiting  for  these  planks,  we  lay  in  the  mud.  After  the 
flooring  of  the  tents  was  completed,  we  were  able,  with 
the  use  of  rubber  blankets,  to  keep  a  little  separation 
between  ourselves  and  the  water  from  below.  There 
were  very  few  tents,  however,  that  were  able  long  to 
withstand  the  drench  of  the  tropical  rain.  Weak  points 
would  be  discovered  and  would  result  in  the  trickling  in  of 
streams  of  increasing  volume.  The  pressure  against  the 
tent  of  any  portion  of  the  occupant's  body  would  at  once 
make  a  connection  with  the  water  outside.  Malarious 
fevers,  rheumatic  fevers,  influenzas,  and  all  the  other 
botherations  of  damp  environment  soon  took  possession  of 
the  camp.  Guard  duty  was,  of  necessity,  kept  up,  but 
drills  and  parades  were  postponed.  I  remember  the 
discouragement  of  the  men  when  they  attended  the  first 
of  the  funerals.  The  graves  had  been  dug  in  ordinary 
course  (and  with  more  care  than  proved  practicable  later 
when  the  funerals  multiplied),  but  by  the  time  we  were 
prepared  to  deposit  what  was  left  of  our  comrades,  the 
graves  were  filled  with  water.  The  impression  given  was 
that  we  were  living  on  a  raft  of  inconsiderable  thickness 
and  that  a  very  little  digging  or  piercing  brought  us  to 
the  flood  below.  Men  who  had  lain  in  the  mud  with 
comparative  patience  became  quite  discouraged  when  they 
realised  that  they  could  not  sleep  dry  after  death.  The 


1863]  Service  as  Chaplain  255 

Catholics  were  particularly  troubled,  I  do  not  yet  realise 
why. 

The  chaplain  of  our  regiment  had  been  one  of  the 
unfortunate  selections  made  by  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  com 
mittee  which  was  responsible  for  our  organisation.  He 
had  been  an  active  Calvinist,  and  was  not  a  bad  preacher, 
but  the  temptations  of  New  Orleans  proved  too  strong  for 
his  morals,  and  it  was  necessary  to  dismiss  him  from  the 
service.  The  men  were  troubled  at  seeing  their  comrades 
buried  without  religious  service,  and  some  of  them  asked 
for  my  help  in  the  matter.  I  took  charge  of  the  burials, 
utilising  for  the  purpose  a  simple  military  service  so  worded 
as  to  offend  no  denominational  prejudices.  Now  and 
then  there  was  occasion  for  a  few  personal  words  over  the 
grave  of  some  comrade  whose  work  had  been  distinctive 
or  whose  character  had  counted.  As  a  result  of  these 
talks,  I  received  a  request  from  the  men,  confirmed  from 
the  commander,  to  preach  each  Sunday  when  the  military 
duties  did  not  interfere  with  service.  I  found  it  an 
interesting  experience.  There  is*  the  advantage  in  army 
preaching  that  the  audience  cannot  get  away.  The  men 
are  called  to  the  service  by  drum  tap  or  bugle,  and  they 
are  released  only  when  the  uplifted  hand  of  the  chaplain 
(or  acting  chaplain)  gives  the  signal  for  the  tap  or  bugle 
indicating  dismissal. 

I  was  still  a  member  of  the  Calvinist  congregation  in 
New  York,  but  my  long  term  of  absence  had  weakened 
my  direct  relations  with,  and  my  full  acceptance  of,  the 
Calvinistic  creed.  In  any  case  it  was,  of  course,  essential 
(and  on  this  point  I  received  a  caution  from  our  com 
mander)  to  avoid  in  the  sermons  any  doctrinal  contentions, 
and  to  restrict  the  teaching  to  beliefs  that  were  common  to 
all  Christians  and  to  suggestions  for  conduct.  There  was 
some  interest  in  the  task  of  shaping  a  sermon  which  while 
expressing  convictions  on  one's  own  part  should  not 


256  Service  as  Chaplain  [1863 

offend  the  convictions  of  others,  particularly  when  the 
others  included  groups  as  varied  as  those  who  were 
brought  together  in  a  New  York  regiment.  I  had  to  do 
with  Catholics,  Hebrews  (a  small  group),  Calvinists, 
Episcopalians,  Lutherans,  and  with  a  number  also  who 
would  have  found  it  rather  difficult  to  define  the  nature  of 
their  faith.  My  preaching  secured  sufficient  acceptance 
to  have  my  work  as  acting  chaplain  continued,  by  re 
quest,  in  the  post  of  Adjutant,  and  I  gave  such  service 
after  my  promotion  until  my  capture  in  Virginia  a  year  or 
more  later.  The  preaching  was  really  the  easiest  part 
of  the  undertaking.  The  responsibility  came  in  giving 
counsel  from  time  to  time  to  men  who  got  into  trouble, 
and  to  caring  for  the  sick  and  wounded  when  they  were 
still  conscious  and  needing  care. 

I  shall  never  know  how  much  my  preaching  influenced 
my  hearers,  but,  as  I  doubt  not  is  often  enough  the  case, 
either  the  preaching  or  the  preparation  for  the  preaching 
brought  about  a  material  modification  in  the  views  of  the 
preacher.  As  before  stated,  it  was  necessary  that  my  talks 
should  avoid  doctrinal  points,  but  in  thinking  over  the  shap 
ing  of  these  talks,  it  was  impossible  to  avoid  giving  fresh 
consideration  to  certain  theological  conclusions  that  I  had 
before  accepted  as  final.  The  longer  I  preached,  the  less 
of  a  Calvinist  I  found  myself,  and  I  may  mention  here,  as 
the  subject  will  not  call  for  further  reference  in  this  nar 
rative,  that  when  the  war  was  over,  I  found  it  necessary 
to  go  to  the  deacons  of  my  society,  which  happened  at 
that  time  to  be  without  a  pastor,  and  to  persuade  them  to 
put  me  out  of  the  congregation. 

The  longest  rain  will  come  to  an  end  sometime.  By 
March  the  intervals  of  sunshine  became  more  frequent  and 
early  in  April  we  were  moved  from  Camp  Parapet  to  our 
next  station  on  the  line  of  defence  of  the  city,  at  Bayou 
Lafourche,  a  village  on  a  railroad  running  westward  from 


1863]  The  Swampland  257 

New  Orleans  towards  Texas  and  distant  from  the  city 
about  forty  miles.  This  railroad,  after  leaving  Algiers 
(the  town  immediately  opposite  New  Orleans),  was  carried 
through  swampland  interrupted,  at  intervals  of  a  few 
miles,  by  oases  which  gave  sufficient  dry  land  for  settle 
ments  or  for  plantation  headquarters.  The  regiment  was 
scattered  in  detachments  holding  several  of  these  village 
points.  The  headquarters  were  for  a  time  at  Lafourche 
and  later  a  little  farther  along  the  road  at  Terrebonne. 
Through  this  forest  swamp,  the  same  arrangement  of 
land  and  water  obtained  as  in  the-  lower  division  of  the 
State  that  we  had  already  passed  through.  The  series  of 
bayous  which  debouched  either  into  the  Mississippi  or 
into  the  swamps,  occupied  the  higher  lines  of  ground. 
Along  the  shores  of  these  bayous,  lay  the  acres  which 
could  be  utilised  for  plantations  and  settlements,  acres 
varying  in  width  from  an  eighth  of  a  mile  to  two  or  three 
miles.  Back  of  these  arable  strips,  stretched  the  dark 
mass  of  the  gum-tree  swamp.  In  the  several  villages 
occupied  by  us  as  stations,  the  buildings  that  were  avail 
able  were  assigned  in  order  of  importance,  first  to  the 
hospital,  second  to  hospital  stores,  quartermaster's  stores 
and  commissariat,  and  third  to  headquarters.  As  sergeant 
in  charge  of  the  quartermaster's  stores,  I  had  the  advan 
tage,  during  this  portion  of  my  service,  of  sleeping  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  time  in  a  frame  house.  This  probably 
had  its  own  service  in  helping  me  to  withstand  the  swamp 
fever. 

The  men  slept  in  A  tents,  and  here  as  at  Camp  Parapet 
we  were  able  after  a  little  delay  to  secure  planks  for  the 
flooring.  The  question  was  not  merely  of  protection 
against  the  damp  but  of  defence  against  the  crawling 
things,  the  moccasin  snakes,  the  scorpions,  and  tarantu 
las.  I  remember  the  scorpions  being  peculiarly  persist 
ent.  When  they  could  not  work  their  way  up  from  below, 

17 


258  The  Swampland  [1863 

through  or  around  the  flooring,  they  would  crawl  up  to 
the  top  of  the  tent  and  drop  down  from  above  onto  the 
blanket,  waiting  for  a  favourable  opportunity  for  a  stab 
at  the  occupant.  It  was  necessary  also  always  to  shake 
out  one's  sheets  or  beds  in  the  morning,  as  these  were 
favourite  resting-places  not  only  for  scorpions  and  spiders 
but  for  moccasins.  In  connection  with  the  activity  of 
reptile  and  insect  life,  the  work  of  the  sentries  was  at  times 
particularly  harassing.  I  was  well  pleased  that  my  own 
responsibilities  saved  me  from  the  necessity  of  standing 
sentry  or  of  doing  picket  duty. 

There  were  certain  paths  through  the  swamp  the 
entrance  to  which  had  to  be  watched.  Our  attention 
had  been  called  to  them  by  friendly  darkies  who  pointed 
out  that  our  camps  could  be  fired  upon  from  the  rear  by 
antagonists  knowing  the  country  and  able  to  make 
their  way  in  places  where  we  should  certainly  have  come 
to  grief.  A  sentry's  post,  on  the  end  of  a  log  possibly 
projecting  out  over  the  dark  water,  was  by  no  means  a 
cheerful  one.  Below  were  the  slime,  the  alligator,  and  the 
moccasin,  and  about  him  were  mosquitoes  of  a  size  and 
ferocity  not  known  even  in  New  Jersey,  while  the  sounds 
coming  from  the  swamp  might  easily,  as  the  imagination 
waxed  active  in  the  darkness,  be  magnified  into  the  ap 
proach  of  the  enemy.  These. swamp  sounds  varied  curi 
ously  according  as  one  was  in  the  midst  of  them  or  a  mile 
or  two  distant.  In  the  swamp  itself,  there  would  simply 
be  a  confusion  of  noise  as  the  alligators  bellowed,  the  owls 
hooted,  the  frogs  croaked,  and  the  mosquitoes  buzzed. 
At  a  distance  of  a  mile  or  two,  these  apparently  discordant 
sounds  merged  together  into  a  massive  and  not  inharmon 
ious  choir. for  which  one  might  have  imagined  that  the 
alligators  served  as  bass,  the  frogs  as  baritone,  and  the 
owls  as  treble. 

Lafourche  had  been  a  shipping  point  for  a  considerable 


1863]  Posts  in  the  Swamp  Country  259 

group  of  sugar  plantations,  and  while  the  retreating  Con 
federates  had  destroyed  the  storehouses  and  some  of  the 
dwellings,  there  were  enough  left  to  make  a  little  settle 
ment.  The  quartermaster's  department  secured  for  the 
protection  of  its  stores  the  largest  of  the  remaining  build 
ings  and,  as  sergeant  in  charge,  I  shared  with  the  stores  the 
protection  of  the  building.  My  immediate  chief,  the 
quartermaster,  was  becoming,  through  the  ravages  of 
drink,  increasingly  helpless,  and  I  had  in  my  own  hands 
the  practical  responsibility  for  the  administration  of  the 
property.  I  shared  the  building  with  the  sergeant  in 
charge  of  the  commissary  stores.  His  name  was  Beveridge. 
He  was  a  Scotchman  of  mature  age  who  had  already  seen 
service  in  one  of  Her  Majesty's  regiments.  I  know  that 
his  experience  proved  of  advantage  to  myself  in  a  good 
many  details  of  the  business  that  we  were  called  upon  to 
carry  on  together.  My  work  as  quartermaster-sergeant 
was  varied  by  trips  up  and  down  the  railroad  to  the  other 
posts  held  by  my  own  regiment,  and  these  trips  occasion 
ally  took  me  as  far  as  the  brigade  headquarters  that  had 
been  fixed  at  Brashear  City.  This  was  a  settlement  on 
the  Brashear  Bayou  some  eighty  miles  from  New  Orleans, 
and  constituted  at  that  time  the  terminus  of  the  Texas  rail 
road.  It  was  at  the  head  of  navigation  for  a  broad  bayou 
which  stretched  down  directly  to  the  Gulf.  It  is  now 
called  Morgan  City  and  is  an  important  point  in  the  great 
railroad  system  to  Texas,  and  as  a  shipping  port  it  has 
become  a  place  of  considerable  moment. 

In  June,  1863,  the  division  of  the  regiment  with  which 
the  quartermaster's  department  was  for  the  time  associ 
ated  was  moved  up  to  Brashear  City.  The  regimental 
headquarters  remained  at  Bayou  Bceuf ,  while  three  com 
panies  were  left  at  Bayou  Lafourche.  The  army  of 
General  Banks  was  at  this  time  engaged  in  front  of  Port 
Hudson.  This  fortified  cliff  controlled  with  its  guns,  at  a 


26o  Port  Hudson  [1863 

point  perhaps  150  miles  up  the  Mississippi  from  New 
Orleans,  the  river  navigation.  Banks  had  at  this  time 
collected  into  his  besieging  army  nearly  every  available 
regiment  in  his  command.  He  had  left  small  bodies  of 
troops  in  charge  of  a  series  of  outlying  posts  between  New 
Orleans  and  Port  Hudson,  and  was  endeavouring,  with 
forces  that  were  small  for  the  job,  to  control  the  country 
westward  from  New  Orleans  as  far  as  Brashear  City. 
The  river  itself,  at  least  up  to  the  point  where  it  was 
challenged  by  the  guns  of  Port  Hudson,  was  patrolled  and 
controlled  by  our  fleet.  The  siege  of  Port  Hudson  was 
proving  a  much  more  difficult  task  than  had  been  antici 
pated.  It  was  found  to  be  impracticable  to  bring  to  bear, 
with  any  efficiency,  upon  the  batteries  on  the  cliff  the 
guns  from  Farragut's  fleet.  On  the  land  side,  the  lines, 
which  possessed  natural  defences  in  the  configuration  of 
the  cliff  on  the  river  and  in  certain  swamplands  on  the 
east,  had  been  very  carefully  fortified  by  an  old  West 
Point  engineer.  General  Banks  had  begun  the  siege  with 
a  force  of  perhaps  twelve  thousand  men,  which  had  gradu 
ally  been  reduced  by  illness  and  by  fruitless  assaults  to 
about  eight  thousand.  The  Confederate  commander, 
General  Gardiner,  had  within  his  defences  fit  for  duty  at 
the  time  the  fort  was  finally  surrendered  about  six  thou 
sand.  As  far  as  I  now  understand  the  records  of  the  siege 
(of  course  at  this  time  our  information  was  unofficial  and 
fragmentary),  the  Confederates  had  shown  themselves 
quite  capable  of  resisting  our  attacks  whether  from  the 
river  or  from  the  land.  Their  most  serious  antagonist 
was  the  approach  of  starvation.  They  were  getting  down 
to  their  last  bean.  Our  own  army  had  sufficient  food  as 
long  as  the  communications  with  New  Orleans  were 
maintained,  but  the  energetic  Confederate,  General  Dick 
Taylor  (son  of  President  Zachary  Taylor  of  Mexican  fame) , 
proposed  to  do  what  he  could  to  break  up  these  com- 


1863]  Brashear  City  261 

munications.  His  force  was  not  sufficient  for  a  direct 
assault  upon  Banks' s  army,  but  was  employed  to  overcome 
the  little  garrisons  which  had  been  left  at  the  series  of 
posts  along  the  river  and  in  the  Lafourche  country. 
Believing  that  Port  Hudson  would  still  be  able  to  hold 
out  for  a  term  of  weeks,  Taylor  devoted  himself  to  har 
assing  the  rear  of  Banks' s  army  and  to  breaking  up  these 
detached  posts.  My  own  regiment  came  into  a  most 
unsatisfactory  experience  with  Taylor's  energetic  tactics, 
and  we  naturally  debited  our  misfortunes  (and  I  think 
at  this  time  in  reading  over  our  records  we  were  critical 
with  full  measure  of  justice)  to  the  stupidity  of  Banks. 
At  this  time  there  was  at  Brashear  City  nothing  in 
the  shape  of  trade  or  commerce  other  than  the  arrival  of 
the  daily  train  from  New  Orleans,  upon  which  train  we 
depended  for  mails,  orders,  food,  and  ammunition,  and 
the  occasional  coming  up  the  bayou  of  one  of  the  bayou 
gunboats  or  of  a  transport.  As  I  now  remember,  the 
little  village  was  stretched  along  the  line  of  the  bayou, 
which  at  that  point  was  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide. 
On  the  western  side  was  another  small  settlement,  the 
name  of  which  I  have  forgotten.  The  dry  ground  on  our 
side  of  the  bayou  extended  back  for  a  width  varying  from 
a  third  of  a  mile  to  half  a  mile,  and  on  the  edge  of  the 
settlement  land  and  of  the  plantation  lands  stood  up 
against  the  sky  the  interminable  gum  trees  of  the  swamp. 
The  place  took  its  name  from  the  old  Brashear  plantation, 
which  had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  same  family  for  gener 
ations.  The  plantation  house  was  the  only  important 
residence  in  the  settlement.  There  were  further  a  village 
store,  one  or  two  big  warehouses  which  had  formerly 
been  used  for  the  storage  of  sugar-cane  and  which  were 
now  filled  in  with  commissary  and  quartermaster's 
stores,  a  railroad  station,  one  or  two  modest  shanties 
that  had  formerly  been  occupied  by  plantation  officials, 


262  Brashear  City  [1863 

the  railroad  officials,  and  the  shipping  people,  and  the  usual 
group  of  shanties  for  the  coloured  folk.  As  far  as  I  can 
recall,  there  were,  with  but  one  exception,  no  white  families 
left  in  the  place.  The  able-bodied  men  had  gone  off 
promptly  into  the  Confederate  army  and  had  arranged 
to  shift  their  women  folk  either  back  to  New  Orleans  or 
westward  to  settlements  well  within  the  Confederate 
lines. 

The  district  westward  that  was  in  view  over  the  water 
was  from  the  plantation  point  of  view  much  more  import 
ant  and  more  valuable  than  that  on  the  New  Orleans 
side.  The  Bayou  Teche,  which  found  its  way  to  the  Gulf 
somewhat  to  the  westward  of  the  Brashear  waters,  was 
the  centre  of  an  extended  district  of  a  very  fruitful  sugar- 
raising  country.  As  is  not  always  the  case,  the  country 
was  not  only  fruitful  but  picturesque.  An  impression 
of  its  beauty  is  given  in  a  few  descriptive  lines  in  Long 
fellow's  Evangeline  and  fuller  descriptions  are  to  be  found 
in  certain  of  Cable's  Louisiana  stories.  A  week  or  two 
prior  to  my  own  migration  to  Brashear  City,  General 
Emory  had  carried  a  couple  of  divisions  of  his  army  across 
the  Brashear  bayou  up  into  the  Teche  district.  He  had 
had  a  lively  fight  on  the  Bisland  plantation,  where  he  had 
won  some  success  over  Dick  Taylor's  troops,  but  had  failed 
to  inflict  the  crushing  defeat  for  which  he  had  hoped  and 
which  was  justified  by  his  stronger  force.  After  this 
incursion,  the  larger  portion  of  our  forces  was,  as  stated, 
hurried  up  to  complete  the  lines  about  Port  Hudson. 
There  were  left  at  Brashear  City  some  1200  or  1300  sick 
and  wounded  men  and  about  a  million  dollars'  worth  of 
stores.  A  force  of  three  hundred  men  was  placed  at 
Brashear  City  to  protect  these  stores  and  the  sick-camp. 
This  force  comprised  about  two  hundred  men  of  the  I76th, 
while  the  remaining  one  hundred  were  made  up  by  small 
drafts  from  a  Rhode  Island  battery,  from  the  I56th  New 


1863]  Brashear  City  263 

York,  and  from  one  of  the  Connecticut  regiments.  We 
also  had  a  few  heavy  artillerymen  under  the  command 
of  Major  Anthony  of  Rhode  Island,  who  was,  as  senior 
officer,  commandant  of  the  post.  Two  or  three  heavy 
guns  were  mounted  in  what  was  by  courtesy  termed  a  fort. 
These  guns  were  ranged  for  protection  against  an  attack 
from  the  west — that  is  to  say,  from  across  the  water.  As  a 
support  for  the  handful  of  artillerymen  in  the  fort  was 
given  a  portion  of  Company  A  of  our  regiment,  under  the 
command  of  its  captain,  Wellington.  With  this  captain 
was  serving  as  first  lieutenant  Daniel  Gano  Gillette. 
Gillette  was  the  son  of  a  Baptist  pastor  in  New  York  City. 
He  came  into  importance  later  in  insurance  circles  as  the 
manager  of  the  Texas  business  of  the  Equitable  Life 
Insurance  Company  of  New  York. 

It  was  the  expectation  that  our  sojourn  at  Brashear 
City  might  last  for  some  little  time  and  we  were,  therefore, 
authorised  to  fit  up  the  post  with  such  conveniences  as 
were  obtainable.  The  stores  belonging  to  the  quarter 
master's  department  for  which  I  was  held  responsible  (the 
Quartermaster,  K.  was  then  at  the  post  but  was  a  very 
ill  man)  were  placed  in  one  of  the  sugar  warehouses  and 
my  quartermaster's  tent  was  pitched  not  far  from  the 
warehouse  on  a  pleasant  piece  of  green  with  an  attractive 
view  across  the  stream  and  down  towards  the  Gulf. 
This  quartermaster's  tent  was  the  most  conspicuous  point 
in  our  camp  as  I  had  reason  to  realise  later.  Our  tents 
were  comfortably  floored,  the  planking  having  been 
secured  through  the  pulling  down  of  some  superfluous 
buildings.  The  detail  of  planking  for  tent  floor  was  of 
importance  not  for  comfort  or  for  splendour,  but  for  pro 
tection  against  nocturnal  intruders  of  one  kind  or  another. 
I  recall  that  while  my  quartermaster's  tent  was  being  put 
into  shape,  I  was  sleeping  in  a  temporary  tent  with  nothing 
between  me  and  the  ground  but  my  blanket.  On  awaken- 


264  Brashear  City  [1863 

ing  in  the  morning,  I  lifted  the  blanket  for  the  usual 
shaking  out,  and  a  big  moccasin  who  had  made  himself 
comfortable  beneath  me  in  the  sand  through  the  night, 
ran  out  at  one  end  while  I  started  to  run  out  of  the  other. 
The  plantation  house  was  utilised  for  headquarters  and 
later  for  a  hospital. 

I  mentioned  one  exception  to  the  exodus  of  the  white 
settlers.  A  lady  named  Kerr  with  her  daughter  had 
remained  in  one  of  the  houses  belonging  to  the  railroad. 
Her  husband  had  been  division  superintendent  of  the 
road  and  was  at  that  time  serving  as  a  major  with  Taylor's 
force.  I  had  been  able  to  be  of  some  little  service  to 
Mrs.  Kerr  in  connection  with  some  quartermaster's  stores 
that  she  desired  to  purchase  and  I  had,  therefore,  the 
privilege  of  calling  at  the  house.  I  was,  however,  at  this 
time  not  very  much  in  condition  for  social  privileges  and 
found  in  fact  my  official  tasks  more  than  sufficient  to 
occupy  my  time  and  strength.  Before  our  command  had 
left  Laf ourche  Crossing  I  had  been  brought  down  with  the 
swamp  fever.  I  do  not  know  what  the  technical  or 
scientific  name  for  the  fever  might  be  but  troublesome  it 
certainly  was,  and  it  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  weak 
ening  of  our  Northern  troops.  I  had  pulled  up  sufficiently 
to  take  my  part  in  the  moving  of  my  stores  but  when  these 
had  been  safely  placed  in  the  warehouse,  I  was  taken  with 
a  relapse.  Some  news  of  my  illness  (I  do  not  think  that 
I  wrote  directly  about  it)  had  reached  the  people  at  home 
and  my  sister  Minnie  had  taken  the  resolution  of  making 
her  way  to  New  Orleans  for  the  purpose  of  nursing  me.  I 
do  not  know  why  my  father  should  ever  have  given  his 
consent  to  the  plan.  There  were  various  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  the  journey  to  New  Orleans  and  much  more 
serious  obstacles  to  prevent  a  civilian,  and  a  girl  at  that, 
from  securing  transportation  and  protection  from  New 
Orleans  to  the  front.  There  was  also  the  fair  probability 


1863]         My  Sister  Comes  to  the  Front          265 

that  by  the  time  her  journey  could  be  completed  her 
brother  would  have  gotten  through  with  his  fever  (in  one 
way  or  the  other)  so  that  her  presence  might  not  prove  of 
any  real  service. 

However  much  weight  may  have  been  given  to  these 
several  considerations,  my  sister's  wish  in  the  matter  was 
permitted  to  prevail.  My  father  obtained  passage  for  her 
on  one  of  the  Government  transports  steaming  to  New 
Orleans  and  secured  the  necessary  letters  to  the  adjutant- 
general  and  to  the  quartermaster's  department  in  which 
letters  were  presented  the  purpose  of  her  visit  and  the 
requests  for  the  necessary  permits  and  transportation  to 
whatever  point  my  regiment  might  at  the  time  of  her 
arrival  be  occupying.  Minnie  was  particularly  fortunate 
in  connection  with  one  of  her  letters.  The  quartermaster- 
general  of  the  department  was  Colonel  H.  The  Colonel 
was  a  West  Pointer  and,  I  believe,  a  very  efficient  officer. 
The  gossip  of  the  department  did  not  give  as  favourable 
an  impression  of  his  character  as  a  man.  His  wife,  who  was 
with  him  in  his  temporary  home  in  New  Orleans,  was  the 
cousin  of  old  friends  of  my  sisters.  Minnie  had  met  Colo 
nel  H.  in  New  York  and  the  letters  that  she  brought  from 
the  Swifts  recalled  this  meeting.  Mrs.  H.,  who  was  an 
intelligent  and  very  attractive  woman,  was  interested 
on  more  grounds  than  one  in  getting  hold  of  my  sister. 
Society  in  New  Orleans  was  at  the  time  much  restricted. 
The  women  from  the  North  were  few  in  number,  while 
the  women  of  New  Orleans  were  entirely  unwilling  to  give 
any  social  recognition  to  the  invaders. 

Mrs.  H.  insisted  that  Minnie  should  make  her  home 
at  the  Quartermaster's  house.  She  was  there  at  the  outset 
for  a  few  days  while  the  address  of  my  division  of  the 
regiment  was  being  looked  up.  In  the  scattered  condition 
of  this  portion  of  Banks's  army,  there  was  some  absurd 
delay  in  getting  the  record  straightened  out  and  Minnie 


266          My  Sister  Comes  to  the  Front         [1863 

was  forwarded  for  at  least  one  trip  in  a  wrong  direction. 
Finally,  however,  she  made  her  way  to  Brashear  City 
and  on  a  sunshiny  evening  early  in  June  reported  herself, 
very  much  to  my  surprise,  at  my  quartermaster's  tent. 
I  was  by  this  time  convalescent  and  while  still  weakened 
and  good  for  nothing,  my  condition  was  not  such  as  to  call 
for  any  immediate  anxiety.  Minnie  was,  therefore,  free 
to  amuse  herself  as  opportunity  might  present.  The 
officers  of  the  post  were  much  interested  in  the  purpose  of 
her  visit  and  as  she  was,  with  the  exception  of  the  Kerrs, 
the  only  lady  within  sight,  they  were  quite  prepared  to 
make  much  of  her.  A  tent  was  assigned  to  her  and  a  col 
oured  girl  was  found  for  a  servant.  She  was  at  Brash- 
ear  City  for  about  a  fortnight  and  managed,  I  think,  to 
enjoy  herself  pretty  thoroughly.  I  remember  one  Sunday 
noon  my  own  coloured  man  coming  in  with  some  little 
excitement  to  report  to  me  that  "  young  Missus,  she  did 
preach  right  powerful."  I  found  that  there  had  been  a 
camp-meeting  for  the  coloured  folks  at  a  point  on  the  edge 
of  the  swamp  and  Minnie  had  attended  as  a  matter  of 
personal  interest  and  had  been  moved  to  do  some  of  the 
talking.  I  have  no  doubt  it  was  a  very  good  preachment. 
At  the  end  of  the  fortnight,  Major  Anthony  received 
some  caution  to  the  effect  that  an  attack  might  be  impend 
ing.  I  do  not  think  that  he  could  have  put  much  faith 
in  the  information  for  he  certainly  took  very  few  pre 
cautions  to  prepare  for  any  serious  righting.  The  caution 
served,  however,  as  a  reminder  that  we  constituted  the 
farthest  picket  post  towards  the  Rebel  lines  westward. 
This  was  evidently  not  a  proper  place  for  a  civilian  girl 
who  had  no  duties  at  the  post.  The  Major,  therefore, 
counselled  my  sister's  return  to  New  Orleans.  There 
she  was  cordially  received  again  by  her  friend  Mrs.  H. 
who  finally  persuaded  her  to  remain  with  the  task  of  giving 
such  tuition  as  he  was  willing  to  receive  to  the  young  H., 


1863]  Brashear  City  267 

an  only  and  somewhat  spoiled  child.  With  this  task  for 
her  occupation  constituting  an  offset  for  her  board, 
Minnie  remained  for  a  month  or  two  in  New  Orleans. 
She  amused  herself  among  other  ways  in  writing,  over  the 
signature  of  "Mary  Israel,"  letters  to  the  New  York 
Evening  Post.  She  also  went  on  with  certain  of  her 
medical  reading.  During  these  earlier  weeks  of  June  the 
siege  of  Port  Hudson  was  progressing  or  rather,  I  should 
say,  continuing,  for  the  progress  seemed  to  be  slight. 

The  post  of  Brashear  City  was,  as  explained,  well  to  the 
front;  the  portion  of  the  State  of  Louisiana  which  was 
still  controlled  by  Confederates,  and  through  which 
migrated  from  village  to  village  the  Confederate  State 
government,  lay  to  the  westward  of  us  and  beyond 
stretched  the  great  State  of  Texas  where  the  United 
States  flag  at  this  time  covered  only  a  bit  of  the  shore 
land  at  Gal  vest  on.  The  settlement  of  Brashear  City 
stretched  along  the  water  side.  Back  of  the  settlement 
were  a  few  hundred  acres  of  sugar-cane  land  and  back  of 
those  the  swamp.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  23d  of 
June,  I  was  roused  from  my  comfortable  quarters  in  the 
big  quartermaster's  tent  by  the  sound  of  a  round  shot 
coming  over  from  the  Rebel  side  of  the  bayou.  I  was 
naturally  interested,  the  more  particularly  as  the  arrival 
of  the  second  shot  showed  that  my  own  tent  was  a  mark 
for  the  Rebel  battery.  It  was  probably  mistaken  for  the 
headquarters. 

The  gunner  got  the  range  so  that  the  second  shot  came 
through  the  upper  part  of  the  tent,  breaking  the  tent  pole 
and  bringing  down  the  canvas  in  a  confused  tangle.  I 
tumbled  out  of  the  rear  end,  completing  my  toilet  behind 
the  nearest  tree,  and  then  reported  to  headquarters  for 
orders.  It  seemed  quite  possible  that  the  little  bombard 
ment  had  been  undertaken  merely  on  the  general  principle 
of  worrying  the  other  fellow.  It  was  evidently  only  a 


268  The  Fight  at  Brashear  [1863 

field  battery  with  which  we  had  to  contend,  the  guns  being 
probably  ten-pounders.  We  got  up  a  couple  of  our  own 
batteries,  and  under  the  direction  of  Major  Anthony 
made  such  vigorous  reply  to  our  Texan  friends  that  their 
fire  gradually  slackened,  no  serious  mischief  being  done 
on  either  side.  Then,  not  a  little  to  our  surprise,  a  couple 
of  long  rows  of  butternut  uniforms  came  down  to  the  edge 
of  the  bayou  and  began  peppering  across  with  their  rifles. 
Our  surprise  was  due  chiefly  to  the  fact  that  the  rifle  shots 
barely  carried  over  the  intervening  water  and  the  balls  that 
did  reach  our  tent  lines  were  for  the  most  part  spent. 
We  hammered  back  with  our  four  fieldpieces  and  really 
did  a  little  mischief. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  volley  from  our  rear  and  we 
realised  that  the  firing  in  front  had  been  carried  on  only  to 
engage  our  attention.  A  couple  of  long  lines  of  "  butter 
nuts"  had  debouched  quietly  from  the  swamp  (the  dry 
paths  through  which  were  of  course  well  known  to  the 
residents  of  the  territory  although  they  would  have  been 
rather  dangerous  for  us  to  attempt  to  follow)  and,  in 
open  formation,  came  across  the  cane  fields  at  a  double- 
quick  pace  firing  half  volleys  as  they  ran.  We  tumbled 
back  from  the  shore  line  and  got  into  such  formation  as 
was  possible  under  the  circumstances.  The  Rebel  line 
overlapped  us,  however,  at  both  ends  while  our  groups 
were  scattered  and  spread  in  such  fashion  that  it  did  not 
prove  practicable  to  bring  them  together  into  any  effective 
fighting  line.  One  of  the  heavy  guns  of  the  little  fort  was 
brought  about  with  some  difficulty  so  as  to  bear  on  the 
cane  fields  instead  of  on  the  bayou.  My  friend  Lieuten 
ant  Gillette  had  been  active  in  this  part  of  the  work  but 
the  moving  of  the  gun  by  hand  had  been  a  slow  matter  and 
by  the  time  he  had  gotten  it  to  bear  on  the  cane  fields  the 
Rebel  line  had  in  large  part  at  least  reached  the  group 
of  houses  and  tents  so  that  firing  was  difficult  without  risk 


1863]  The  Fight  at  Brashear  269 

of  injuring  friends  as  well  as  foes.  I  think  that  the  big 
gun  was  utilised  for  but  two  shots  in  all.  The  men  in  the 
sick  camp  were  without  arms  and  representing  as  they  did 
fragments  of  a  number  of  regiments  (about  all  in  the  army 
corps)  were  without  organisation.  There  was  no  way  of 
making  immediately  effective  such  fighting  power  as 
might  be  possessed  by  the  steadier  of  the  convalescents. 
They  could,  therefore,  only  stay  quiet,  keeping  themselves 
as  much  as  practicable  out  of  the  double  line  of  fire. 

A  group  of  forty  or  fifty  of  my  regiment  to  which  I  had 
joined  myself  made  its  way  to  the  little  plantation  ceme 
tery.  Here  had  been  buried  the  members  of  the  Brashear 
family  and  in  some  little  plots  had  been  laid  to  rest  the 
family  servants.  The  graves  of  the  white  folks,  or  at  least 
of  the  bigger  white  folks,  were  marked  by  big  square  or 
oblong  tombstones  with  an  occasional  monument.  The 
graves  of  the  darkies  were  indicated  simply  by  little  head 
stones.  We  utilised  as  far  as  practicable  for  shelter  the 
larger  tombstones,  dividing  for  the  purpose  into  little 
groups.  Behind  these  tombs,  we  kept  up  for  an  hour  or 
two  a  scattering  fire  and  succeeded  in  repelling  at  least  one 
attack  from  the  front.  Now  and  then  when  there  came 
to  be  too  large  a  party  behind  the  tomb  for  satisfactory 
cover,  we  dared  each  other  to  break  across  the  line  of  fire 
to  some  other  shelter.  In  one  case  I  remember  tossing 
pennies  to  see  which  should  make  the  run.  Towards 
noon,  however,  the  position  became  untenable.  The 
Rebels  had  worked  their  way  through  the  camp  to  what 
was  the  rear  of  the  line  of  battle  (although  the  actual 
front  of  the  camp)  and  had  gotten  between  us  and  the 
bayou.  We  did  what  we  could  to  hold  the  little  wall  of 
the  cemetery  westward  but  the  line  was  too  small  for  an 
effective  resistance.  The  other  groups  had  by  this  time 
been  broken  up  and  captured.  There  was  nothing  for  us 
to  do  but  to  accept  the  inevitable.  A  white  handkerchief 


270  Dick  Taylor's  Campaign  [1863 

was  put  up  over  one  of  the  tombstones  and  in  a  few 
minutes  we  were  relieved  of  our  muskets  and  pistols 
and  marshalled  into  the  newly  appointed  camp  of  pris 
oners.  The  fighting  had  been  pretty  active  while  it 
lasted  but  as  actions  went  it  was  of  course  only  a  skir 
mish.  The  Rebel  line  in  advance  had  comprised  perhaps 
a  thousand  men.  Against  these  we  had  about  four  hund 
red  under  arms.  Apart  from  this  difference  in  numbers, 
we  had  as  it  happened  been  taken  by  surprise  and  were 
therefore  at  a  disadvantage. 

The  troops  that  had  taken  possession  of  Brashear  City 
comprised  a  portion  of  the  force  with  which  General  Dick 
Taylor  was  assaulting  the  communications  between 
General  Banks' s  army  at  Port  Hudson  and  his  base  of 
supplies  at  New  Orleans  and  at  Algiers.  Taylor  was 
emphatically  a  fighting  general.  He  had  had  a  West 
Point  training  and  had  seen  some  frontier  service  with 
the  regular  army,  but  at  the  time  the  war  broke  out  he 
was  engaged  in  railroad  business  in  New  Orleans.  The 
Confederate  authorities  seem  never  to  have  had  any  very 
great  confidence  in  his  discretion  and  while  senior  in  age 
and  in  military  experience  to  nearly  all  of  his  associates 
among  the  general  officers  of  the  Southern  department,  he 
was  never  given  the  full  authority  of  a  separate  command. 

The  plan  of  the  campaign  under  which,  with  a  com 
paratively  small  force,  he  was  making  it  "hot"  for  the 
army  of  General  Banks  that  was  fully  absorbed  in  holding 
its  position  outside  of  the  fortifications  of  Port  Hudson, 
was  said  to  have  originated  with  Taylor  and  to  have  been 
consented  to  with  some  reluctance  by  the  commander  of 
the  department,  General  Kirby  Smith.  The  capture  of 
Brashear  City,  the  most  advanced  westward  of  Banks's 
posts,  constituted  the  first  step  in  the  assault  on  his  lines. 
After  the  fall  of  Brashear  City,  Taylor's  forces  were 
directed  in  succession  against  a  series  of  posts  lying 


1863]  Dick  Taylor's  Campaign  271 

back  of  the  Mississippi  between  Algiers  and  Port 
Hudson.  He  was  successful  at  Bayou  Boeuf  and  Terre- 
bonne  where  the  forces  attacked  included  detachments  of 
my  own  regiment.  He  was  pluckily  repulsed  at  Bayou 
Lafourche  where  the  forces,  including  three  companies 
of  the  1 76th,  were  commanded,  and  very  ably  commanded, 
by  our  Major  Morgans.  He  was  also  repulsed  in  a  more 
serious  attack  on  the  more  important  post  Fort  Donald 
son,  which  commanded  the  channel  of  the  river  at  a  point 
some  thirty  miles  above  New  Orleans.  He  succeeded, 
however,  in  getting  possession  of  a  number  of  the  river 
posts,  intrenching  himself  within  so  many  well  selected 
positions  along  the  river  that  communication  by  land 
between  Banks  and  his  department  headquarters  was 
entirely  cut  off.  The  control  of  the  river  rested,  of 
course,  with  our  gunboats,  but  even  for  these  and  to  a  still 
greater  extent  for  the  transports  the  route  to  Port  Hud 
son,  the  force  besieging  which  called  for  continued  sup 
plies  of  food  and  ammunition,  was  difficult  and  often 
dangerous.  Taylor's  guns,  placed  at  convenient  points 
along  the  river,  pounded  away  at  the  gunboats  and  suc 
ceeded  more  than  once  with  the  use  of  red-hot  shot  in 
setting  fire  to  transports  or  in  driving  them  ashore.  If 
Port  Hudson  had  been  able  to  hold  out  for  a  few  weeks 
longer,  as  it  undoubtedly  could  have  held  out  had  it  not 
been  for  the  fall  of  Vicksburg,  the  position  of  Banks,  with 
his  attenuated  and  seriously  invalided  army,  would  have 
been  seriously  imperilled.  Even  we  youngsters  were  able 
to  realise  the  serious  consequences  that  were  likely  to  come 
upon  our  army  and  upon  our  control  of  the  State  through 
Taylor's  success  at  Brashear. 

The  prisoners  were  collected  in  a  hastily  arranged 
prison  camp  with  a  dividing  line  between  the  officers 
and  the  men.  The  old  plantation  house,  which  we  had 
used  as  post  headquarters,  was  promptly  turned  into  a 


272  A  Rebel  Hospital  [1863 

hospital,  for  which  there  was  immediate  need.  There  were 
in  all  some  two  or  three  hundred  wounded,  the  number 
being  perhaps  equal  for  the  Butternuts  and  the  Blues.  A 
tall  Texan  who  called  himself  the  brigade-surgeon  took 
charge  of  the  hospital,  but  having  succumbed  very 
promptly  to  the  influence  of  some  Yankee  whiskey  that 
he  had  captured,  he  was  put  out  by  the  Rebel  brigadier 
(General  Green) ,  as  unfit  for  service,  and  our  own  surgeon, 
Dr.  Willetts  of  Brooklyn,  was  requested  to  take  charge. 
Willetts  was,  of  course,  very  ready  to  do  what  was  in  his 
power  for  the  wounded  of  either  side,  but  the  difficulties  of 
his  task  were  considerable.  He  had  no  assistance,  the 
assistant  surgeon  being  at  another  post  and  the  hospital 
steward  having  been  killed  in  the  action.  He  had  but 
a  small  supply  of  appliances,  and  while  there  was  a  great 
mass  of  food  in  the  warehouse,  there  was  very  little  that 
was  fitted  for  the  use  of  wounded  men  in  hot  weather; 
and  the  weather  was  hot,  the  temperature  going  up  in 
the  sun  to  a  hundred  and  anything  and  in  the  shade 
staying  in  the  high  nineties,  with  the  additional  burden 
for  the  sufferers  of  carrying  an  enormous  amount  of 
moisture.  The  fact  that  Willetts  was  himself  a  prisoner 
interfered  also,  of  necessity,  with  his  authority  over 
subordinates.  Even  the  darkies  were  sulky  and  unwill 
ing  to  help. 

As  a  result,  the  old  plantation  house  became  a  very 
uncomfortable  centre  of  suffering.  Fortunately  perhaps 
for  the  doctor,  the  men  died  pretty  fast,  and  those  who 
died  first  had  the  easiest  time.  The  damp  heat  brought  an 
influx  of  maggots  into  the  wounds  which  added  very  much 
to  the  burdens  of  the  wounded  and  to  the  requirement  for 
care.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  Lister  antiseptic 
treatment  of  wounds  came  into  force  only  eight  or  nine 
years  later.  Lister's  discoveries  and  appliances  would 
have  saved  thousands  of  lives  during  our  Civil  War  if  they 


A  Rebel  Hospital  273 

had  been  arrived  at  in  time.  Pretty  well  exhausted  with 
his  work  of  his  first  two  or  three  days,  the  doctor  came 
over  to  the  prison  camp  to  look  for  help  and  I  volunteered 
to  take  up  my  quarters  in  the  hospital  and  to  render  what 
service  I  could  in  caring  for  the  wounded.  It  was  an 
undesirable  task  but  Willetts  had  been  very  good  to  me 
and  he  had  a  right  to  any  assistance  I  could  give  him,  and 
accordingly  I  took  my  blanket  over  to  the  plantation  house 
and  reported  as  acting  hospital  steward.  My  knowledge 
of  appliances  was  nil,  but  the  elementary  things  were 
speedily  learned  and  I  was  able  occasionally  to  secure 
for  the  doctor  an  hour's  sleep  which  otherwise  would 
have  been  out  of  his  reach.  The  heat,  the  stench  from 
the  wounds,  and  the  dirt  of  the  building  which,  without 
authority  over  service,  it  was  impossible  to  keep  clean, 
proved,  however,  after  eight  or  ten  days'  work,  too  much 
for  my  own  control  of  myself.  I  was  still  weak  from  the 
swamp  fever  and  I  was  now  knocked  over  with  what  the 
doctor  called  gangrene  poison.  The  few  cots  were  all 
occupied  and  the  men  were  lying  on  the  floor  and  outside 
on  the  piazza.  I  was  fortunate  to  secure  with  my  blanket 
a  corner  of  the  piazza. 

I  remember  that  while  lying  there  in  a  kind  of  half 
stupor,  I  saw  the  coloured  men  who  had  taken  wrapped 
up  in  a  blanket  to  the  plantation  cemetery  the  body  of  a 
chap  who  had  passed  away  during  the  night,  bringing 
their  burden  back  to  the  piazza.  The  Texan  surgeon,  a 
little  less  drunk  than  usual,  happened  to  be  sitting  at  the 
front  door  and  asked  pretty  roughly  what  the  men  were 
doing  with  that  thing. 

''Why,  Massa!     We  done  see  him  kick. " 

"Well,  put  him  down  where  you  stand.  He'll  be  ready 
for  you  before  night." 

It  was  probable  that  the  kicking  was  at  worst  but  an 
unconscious  motion,  but  I  imagine  that  this  was  but  one 

18 


274  The  Kerrs  [1863 

of  similar  instances  when  death  was  hastened  by  pre 
mature  burial. 

The  so-called  settlement  at  Brashear  City  had  been 
pretty  well  broken  up  during  the  campaign  of  the  preced 
ing  year.  There  had  been  but  a  small  group  of  houses  out 
side  of  the  buildings  belonging  to  the  plantation  and  these 
had  been  occupied  by  successive  groups  of  officers  and 
soldiers  and  more  or  less  ransacked.  I  have  referred  to  the 
one  house,  that  of  the  Kerrs,  which  during  our  occupation 
retained  its  original  inmates.  While  the  name  was  Ger 
man  the  lady  herself  was  more  than  half  French  and  the 
daughter,  who  was  about  seventeen  and  who  was  quite 
pretty,  had  had  her  schooling  in  a  convent  in  New  Orleans. 
The  French  of  both  ladies  was  more  fluent  than  their 
English  although  they  had  no  difficulty  in  understanding 
our  vernacular.  The  husband  was  a  major  in  Taylor's 
army  who  had  naturally  been  interested  in  this  attack  on 
his  home  town  and  had  come  in  with  the  Texan  troops. 
I  had  seen  something  of  Mrs.  Kerr  and  her  daughter  dur 
ing  the  preceding  weeks  although  they  did  not  encourage 
the  visits  of  bluecoats.  After  the  capture  of  the  place, 
both  ladies  gave  some  hours  each  day  to  service  in  the 
hospital,  service  which  secured  from  both  Willetts  and 
the  Rebel  commander  cordial  recognition.  In  finding  the 
Quartermaster- Sergeant  among  the  patients,  Mrs.  Kerr 
identified  me  as  an  acquaintance  and  asked  Dr.  Willetts 
whether  I  was  going  to  get  well.  He  told  her  that  under 
the  circumstances  he  thought  the  chances  were  against  me. 
She  then  suggested  that  she  would  be  ready,  if  he  thought 
that  it  would  help  matters,  to  have  me  taken  over  to  the 
attic  in  her  house.  He  jumped  at  the  opportunity  very 
gladly,  feeling,  as  he  told  me  later,  some  responsibility  for 
having  brought  a  youngster  of  my  little  strength  into  such 
a  pest-hole.  Two  darkies  earned  me  over  to  the  attic 
in  the  Kerr  cottage.  The  quarters  were  limited  and  were 


1863]  The  Kerrs  275 

hot,  the  sun  beating  down  directly  on  the  sloping  roof,  but 
the  air  was  clean  and  the  freedom  from  dirt  and  from  the 
environment  of  the  wounded  men  was  in  itself  an  enor 
mous  relief.  I  began  to  mend  very  rapidly  and  had  a  right 
to  consider  myself  fortunate. 

The  two  ladies  gave  me  all  the  care  that  was  possible 
with  the  limited  resources  at  their  command,  and  an  old 
darky  servant  who  had  loyally  remained  in  their  service 
was  also  ready  with  his  assistance.  The  little  girl  made  a 
practice  of  coming  to  me  once  or  twice  a  day  and  carrying 
on  a  lively  conversation  in  French.  Fortunately  my  ex 
perience  in  Paris  was  not  so  far  back  but  that  I  could 
manage  my  end  of  the  talk.  She  was,  naturally  enough, 
keenly  interested  in  the  success  of  the  Confederacy,  and 
was  perfectly  confident  that  this  was  to  come  about  very 
shortly.  She  brought  to  me  certain  scraps  of  news  from 
the  armies  of  the  North  that  she  had  heard  her  father  talk 
ing  over.  The  battle  of  Gettysburg  had  been  fought  a 
week  or  two  back,  but  the  reports  of  what  had  actually 
happened  came  to  Louisiana,  or  at  least  to  that  portion  of 
the  State  which  was  within  the  Confederate  lines,  in  a  very 
fragmentary  and  confused  form.  At  all  events,  my  young 
lady  was  pretty  clear  in  her  mind  that  Lee  had  marched 
through  Pennsylvania  with  absolute  success;  had  been 
received  with  open  arms  in  Baltimore,  and  was  at  that 
time  besieging  Philadelphia.  Washington  was  isolated 
and  was  certain  to  surrender  within  a  week  or  two.  I 
naturally  declined  to  take  in  this  report  as  authoritative, 
but  I  may  admit  that  it  made  me  very  anxious  at  the  time. 
A  week  or  two  later,  when  our  troops  had  again  taken 
possession  of  the  post  and  I  was  arranging  to  get  mother 
and  daughter  taken  in  safety  to  New  Orleans,  the  young 
lady  admitted  that  she  had  exaggerated  the  story  of  the 
Confederate  success  (by  that  time  we  had  the  news  sub 
stantially  correct),  but  that  she  had  got  the  impression 


276  I  Am  Recaptured  [1863 

that  her  aggressive  talk  acted  as  a  tonic  upon  me  and  that 
it  had  helped  to  bring  back  my  vitality.  I  was  glad  to 
think  that  this  pretty  girl  of  seventeen  had  not  been 
entirely  unsympathetic  with  her  mother's  patient,  and 
in  any  case  I  had  full  reason  for  gratitude  to  both  mother 
and  daughter  when  I  bid  them  an  affectionate  farewell. 

I  lay  in  the  Kerr  attic  for  about  a  fortnight.  From 
my  blanket  on  the  floor  I  could  see  out  through  the  little 
roof  windows,  one  of  which  looked  northward  up  the 
stream  and  towards  the  Confederate  lines  and  the  other 
southward  towards  the  Gulf.  My  attention  was  struck 
one  morning  by  some  rather  hurried  operations  in  the 
Rebel  camp,  which  was  also  within  view  of  my  window. 
Orderlies  were  running  about  and  guns  and  waggons  were 
being  hastily  put  into  shape  for  service  or  for  transporting. 
A  few  minutes  later  flames  broke  out  from  the  big  storage 
warehouse.  I  then  realised  that  the  post  must  be 
threatened  by  an  advance  of  our  troops  and  that  the 
Rebels  were  preparing  to  evacuate  it.  They  had  but  two 
or  three  vehicles  and  a  small  amount  of  mule  power,  so 
that  it  was  impracticable  for  them  to  take  away  the  stores 
that  they  had  captured.  Rolling  over  to  the  other  side 
of  the  attic  I  could  see  coming  slowly  from  the  direction  of 
the  Gulf  the  smoke  columns  of  the  vessels  which  were 
causing  this  alarm.  I  counted  four  pairs  of  columns, 
meaning  of  course  four  vessels  and  probably  indicating,  in 
accordance  with  the  usual  routine,  that  there  were  two 
gunboats  and  a  couple  of  transports. 

The  Rebel  troops  fell  into  column  while  the  prisoners 
were  ordered  into  line  for  inspection  and  roll-call.  The 
commissioned  officers  were  marched  of!  under  a  special 
guard  in  advance  of  the  movement  of  the  whole  body. 
They  had  before  them  a  toilsome  march  which  ended  in  a 
stockade  in  western  Texas.  There  they  were  kept  for 
about  fourteen  months  and  when  they  were  finally  ex- 


i863]  I  Am  Recaptured  277 

changed,  those  who  remained  were  for  the  most  part  in 
such  poor  physical  condition  that  they  were  no  longer  fit 
for  service  and  had  to  be  retired.  For  many  of  the  officers 
of  my  regiment  Brashear  City  was  the  first  and  the  last 
action  of  the  war.  The  enlisted  men  were  paroled  sub 
ject  to  exchange.  The  details  of  the  paroling  I  learned 
only  later.  The  men  were  called  upon  to  sign  papers 
pledging  them  not  to  take  up  arms  until  they  had  been 
duly  exchanged.  They  were  then  left  for  the  care  of  our 
own  incoming  troops.  It  was  with  this  group  that  the 
Quartermaster- Sergeant  properly  belonged,  but  in  the 
hurry  of  their  closing  preparations  I  was,  fortunately  for 
my  own  comfort,  overlooked,  the  commissioner  of  pris 
oners  completing  his  lists  without  including  in  these  my 
name.  I  lay  in  the  attic  expecting  a  summons  from 
moment  to  moment  but  having  no  idea  of  volunteering 
my  presence  unless  under  order.  I  heard  the  Major 
downstairs  kissing  his  wife  and  daughter  good-bye  and 
heard  the  women  weeping  that  they  were  again  to  be  left 
with  the  Yankees.  I  never  saw  anything  more  than  his 
back  and  he  had  taken  equal  pains  to  have  no  official 
knowledge  that  his  wife  had  a  guest  in  the  house. 

As  soon  as  the  last  of  the  Butternuts  had  disappeared, 
I  hobbled  downstairs  on  my  crutches  and  made  my  way 
to  the  little  wharf.  The  leading  gunboat  was  already 
in  sight,  immediately  followed  by  a  transport  bearing 
the  brigade  flag  of  General  Birge.  The  General  was  a 
Connecticut  man  whom  I  had  come  to  know  pleasantly 
and  who  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  an  acquaintance  of 
my  father's.  As  he  landed  with  his  adjutant,  he  was 
naturally  somewhat  surprised  to  be  greeted  by  one  small 
Yankee. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  sergeant?"  he  enquired. 

"Why  sir,"  I  reported,  "they  went  away  and  forgot 
me."  The  adjutant  added  some  word  to  the  effect  that 


278  General  Birge  [1863 

I  did  not  look  to  be  very  dangerous  to  the  Confederacy 
and  that  it  was  his  opinion  they  had  not  thought  me 
worth  taking. 

My  immediate  urgency  was  to  secure  a  guard  for  the 
cottage  of  Mrs.  Kerr.  Other  buildings  in  the  settlement 
in  addition  to  the  big  warehouse  were  already  in  flames 
and  I  was  afraid  that  stragglers  might  do  mischief  to  this 
particular  cottage.  I  explained  hastily  to  the  General 
the  care  that  Mrs.  Kerr  and  her  daughter  had  rendered 
to  our  wounded  and  he  hurried  up  some  guards  to  her 
house.  The  brigade  adjutant  then  wrote  out  a  brief 
statement  of  Mrs.  Kerr's  services,  which  I  signed  as 
witness,  and  to  this  the  General  attached  a  safe-conduct 
which  would  give  protection  to  Mrs.  Kerr  and  her  house 
hold  at  any  point  within  the  Federal  lines.  Such  a  docu 
ment  was  of  exceptional  value  in  a  territory  the  control  of 
which  shifted  between  the  two  parties  from  month  to 
month.  The  General  decided  later,  after  looking  into  the 
conditions  of  the  post,  that  he  would  not  undertake  to 
re-occupy  it  and  that  it  would  no  longer  be  a  safe  place 
for  women.  He  therefore  sent  Mrs.  Kerr  and  the  daughter 
into  New  Orleans  in  a  special  car  with  their  furniture 
and  they  were  the  only  people  who  took  out  of  Brashear 
City  any  of  the  property  that  belonged  to  them.  A 
house  was  assigned  to  her  in  New  Orleans  where  as  far  as 
I  knew  she  abode  in  safety  during  the  rest  of  the  war. 

General  Birge  found  that  there  was  nothing  to  be 
gained  by  pursuing  the  battalions  of  the  active  Taylor. 
His  own  troops  had  been  relieved  a  few  days  earlier  from 
siege  duty  by  the  surrender  of  Port  Hudson.  After  the 
surrender,  General  Taylor  found  it  necessary  to  withdraw 
his  troops  rapidly  from  the  advance  positions  he  had 
taken  up  along  the  river.  He  fell  back  through  the  Teche 
to  the  Red  River.  I  reported  myself  to  the  post  adjutant 
in  New  Orleans,  and,  after  a  fortnight  in  the  hospital,  was 


1863]  Bonnet  Carr£  279 

able  to  return  to  my  regiment,  or  to  what  was  left  of  my 
regiment,  at  Bonnet  Carre,  a  post  on  the  Mississippi 
about  forty  miles  above  New  Orleans.  This  was  early 
in  August,  1863. 


XIII 
I  Re-Enlist  for  the  War 

X  ^T  THEN  the  paroled  men  of  the  regiment  had  been 
YY  duly  exchanged  and  had  reported  for  duty  at 
Bonnet  Carre,  the  regiment  itself  was  mus 
tered  out  of  service.  It  had  been  originally  enlisted  (as 
a  part  of  a  levy  of  about  one  hundred  thousand  men) 
for  a  term  of  nine  months.  In  the  autumn  of  1862,  when 
our  service  began,  the  authorities  in  Washington  were 
still  hopeful  of  being  able  to  bring  the  war  to  a  close 
before  another  year  had  expired,  but  by  the  autumn  of 
1863,  they  had  better  realisation  of  the  extent  of  the  task, 
and  notwithstanding  the  all-important  successes  of 
Gettysburg  and  Vicksburg,  they  were  not  prepared  to  fix 
any  early  date  for  the  recovery  of  the  extended  territory 
of  the  Confederacy.  The  regiment  had,  at  the  time  of  the 
close  of  its  original  term  of  service  in  1863,  been  under 
arms  for  about  twelve  months.  The  opportunity  was 
given  to  the  men  of  the  I76th,  as  to  all  the  other  nine 
months'  volunteers,  to  re-enlist,  and  this  time  the  term  of 
service  was  fixed  for  three  years  or  until  the  close  of  the 
war,  whichever  time  should  prove  to  be  the  shorter.  The 
men  of  the  I76th  with  hardly  an  exception  re-enlisted 
and  the  regiment  was  re-organised  on  the  basis  of 
three  years'  service.  A  few  officers  promoted  from  other 
regiments  were  transferred  to  us,  while  the  remaining 

280 


1863]  Bonnet  Carre  281 

commissions  were  issued  to  our  own  non-commissioned 
officers,  who  after  a  year's  rather  varied  service  were  now 
prepared  to  class  themselves  as  veterans.  The  officers 
of  the  earlier  organisation  who  had  been  carried  off  as 
prisoners  to  Texas  were  mustered  out  of  service  as  far  as 
their  own  regiment  was  concerned,  but  remained  neverthe 
less  entitled  to  pay  until  the  close  of  their  imprisonment; 
for  not  a  few  of  these  Texas  prisoners  the  imprisonment 
was  however  terminated  by  death.  I  myself  received  a 
commission  as  Second  Lieutenant,  in  which  position  how 
ever  I  did  no  service.  A  few  months  later,  there  came 
to  me  a  commission  as  First  Lieutenant,  in  which  rank 
I  was  mustered  in.  I  served  for  about  six  months  as 
Quartermaster,  and  then  secured  the  post  of  Adjutant, 
which  I  very  much  preferred. 

The  post  at  Bonnet  Carre  was  occupied  by  the  I76th 
and  by  detachments  from  certain  other  regiments  of  the 
division.  It  was  also  utilised  to  some  extent  as  a  sick 
camp.  The  land  occupied  by  our  post  was  carried  away 
in  toto,  some  years  after  the  war,  by  one  of  the  Mississippi 
spring  floods,  and  I  believe  that  there  is  now  no  settlement 
carrying  the  name  of  "square  bonnet."  The  strip  of 
dry  land  available  for  cultivation  or  for  homes  was  in  1 863 
quite  narrow.  It  is  my  memory  that  the  swamps  began 
at  points  from  one  half  mile  to  a  mile  back  of  the  river,  and, 
as  was  nearly  always  the  case  with  these  back  country 
swamps,  the  water  in  them  deepened  in  direct  proportion 
to  the  distance  from  the  river.  I  had  occasion  to  make 
some  test  of  the  depth  of  this  particular  strip  of  swamp. 
I  had  secured  with  a  comrade  leave  of  absence  for  a  few 
days  which  I  proposed  to  devote  to  looking  up  acquain 
tances  in  New  Orleans.  We  were  planning  to  journey  to 
New  Orleans  by  the  steamboat  Iberville  that  touched  at 
Bonnet  Carre  every  other  day.  Its  mission  was  to  carry 
mails,  provisions,  and  invalids  between  the  posts  on  the 


282  A  Trip  Through  the  Swamp  [1863 

river  and  New  Orleans.  The  day  on  which  our  leave  of 
absence  began,  we  waited  patiently  for  the  Iberville,  but 
no  boat  appeared.  The  next  morning  our  patience  had 
come  to  an  end  and  we  decided  to  make  our  way  to  the 
city  by  means  of  the  railroad,  the  line  of  which  ran  some 
twelve  miles  back  of  the  river  and  which  could  be  reached 
by  a  trip  through  the  swamp.  We  learned  afterwards 
that  the  Iberville  had  been  burned  by  the  shells  of  a  Rebel 
battery,  and  this  report  had  to  be  accepted  as  a  sufficient 
excuse  for  its  non-appearance.  We  started  in  the  morn 
ing  under  the  guidance  of  a  darky,  who  claimed  to  have 
knowledge  of  the  country,  to  find  a  track  across  the 
swamp.  The  first  mile  or  two  was  managed  by  walking 
on  a  more  or  less  submerged  foot-path.  We  then  reached 
a  flatboat  which  had  been  reserved  for  ferry  purposes, 
and  started  to  pole  through  one  of  the  deeper  channels 
of  the  swamp.  The  flatboat  had  unfortunately  been 
reserved  too  long  and  was  no  longer  seaworthy.  She 
began  to  fill  with  water  and  in  spite  of  energetic  bailing 
(for  which  our  soft  hats  were  the  only  available  vessels) 
she  rapidly  filled.  We  saved  ourselves  and  our  equip 
ments  by  a  hasty  jump  into  the  roots  of  an  island  of  gum 
trees  and  the  boat  disappeared  from  view.  The  position 
was  not  an  encouraging  one.  We  were  in  the  midst  of  a 
swamp  that  extended  north  and  south  for  a  long  series  of 
miles,  and  which  while  comparatively  narrow  from  east 
to  west  had  at  this  point  hardly  any  through  travellers. 
The  water  ranged  in  depth  from  three  feet  to  thirty  and 
the  gum  trees  grew  from  the  dark  depths  with  a  cheerful 
ness  that  was  rather  aggravating  to  beings  who  were 
not  equally  amphibious.  We  fired  our  pistols  until  we 
had  nearly  exhausted  our  cartridges. 

Fortunately  one  of  the  later  volleys  caught  the  atten 
tion  of  a  working  party  that  was  making  repairs  on  the 
line  of  railroad.  A  friendly  scow  was  pushed  in  by 


1863]  A  Trip  Through  the  Swamp  283 

these  workers,  and  in  a  moist  condition  and  not  a  little 
exasperated  with  the  further  diminution  of  our  leave 
of  absence,  we  were  safely  landed  on  the  embankment. 
The  daily  train  to  New  Orleans  (the  road  was  of  course 
at  that  time  run  under  military  superintendence)  had 
already  passed.  We  started  therefore  to  walk  to  the 
city,  a  distance  of  about  forty  miles.  We  were  fortunate 
enough  before  we  had  gone  over  many  miles  to  come 
across  a  handcar  in  charge  of  another  working  party 
busied  with  the  repairs  of  the  road.  We  took  possession 
of  the  same  as  a  war  necessity  and  in  the  name  of  Uncle 
Sam,  and  while  having  no  previous  experience  in  the 
management  of  the  crank,  we  succeeded,  as  the  result  of 
our  energetic  desire  to  get  to  the  city,  in  making  very 
good  progress.  We  were  going  at  the  rate  of  perhaps 
twelve  miles  an  hour  when  we  passed  within  sight  and 
within  hearing  of  the  working  gang,  who  were  probably 
themselves  depending  upon  this  same  car  to  take  them 
back  to  their  camp.  They  said  things  rather  forcibly  as 
we  whizzed  past  them  and  threatened  all  kinds  of  dire 
consequences.  We  turned  to  them  however  deaf  ears 
and  trundled  on  towards  the  city,  which,  pretty  well  tired 
out  and  with  blistered  hands,  we  reached  late  in  the 
evening.  The  car  was  turned  into  the  railroad  depart 
ment  with  the  simple  report  that  we  had  found  it  on  the 
track,  and  we  devoted  ourselves  with  solid  satisfaction  to 
enjoying  the  small  remaining  time  of  our  leave  of  absence. 
On  a  visit  made  a  few  weeks  earlier  to  New  Orleans, 
this  time  on  an  official  errand  with  despatches,  I  had  not 
been  quite  so  fortunate.  I  had  come  by  boat  part  of  the 
way,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  the  boat  did  not  com 
plete  its  trip  and  I  was  still  some  ten  miles  or  more  from 
the  city  late  in  the  afternoon  with  despatches  which  I 
was  instructed  to  deliver  before  night.  I  went  to  the  quar 
termaster  of  that  particular  post  and  "commandeered" 


284  The  Adjutant  and  his  Horse  [1863 

a  horse.  The  term  is  of  course  one  of  much  later  date, 
but  the  action  for  which  this  term  gives  such  a  con 
venient  description  was  naturally  of  frequent  occurrence 
during  our  own  war  times.  The  horse  placed  at  my  dis 
posal  was  a  big,  hard-mouthed  beast,  quite  capable  of 
giving  a  serious  pull  to  the  arms  of  an  experienced  and 
strongly  built  rider.  For  a  youngster  like  myself  who 
knew  very  little  about  riding  and  who  was  still  weak  from 
recent  fever,  the  beast  was  practically  out  of  control.  He 
did  what  he  chose  on  the  road  to  the  city.  It  was  in  fact 
fortunate  for  his  rider  that  on  the  whole  he  preferred  that 
direction  for  I  should  most  assuredly  have  been  helpless 
to  direct  him  if  he  had  decided  upon  any  other.  As  he 
came  into  town  where  the  soft  earth  of  the  highway  gave 
place  to  the  rough  cobbles  of  the  street,  his  pace,  instead 
of  becoming  milder,  developed  in  speed  and  in  jerkiness. 
I  managed,  somewhat  to  my  own  "surprise,  to  steer  him 
into  Carondelet  Street,  in  which  were  the  headquarters 
that  I  was  to  report  to.  The  steed  galloped  along  the 
roughly  paved  street  with  so  much  earnestness  that  he 
failed  to  give  consideration  to  the  various  pitfalls. 

Just  in  front  of  the  headquarters  had  been  left  (with 
what  seemed  to  me  criminal  carelessness  on  the  part  of  the 
post  quartermaster)  a  pretty  large  hole.  Into  this  hole 
came  the  front  feet  of  the  stewed  and  over  the  head  of  the 
steed  plunged  the  rider.  I  landed  on  my  own  head  just 
in  front  of  General  Banks's  headquarters  and  rolled  over 
half  stunned  into  the  gutter.  Fortunately  the  beast 
himself  was  somewhat  troubled  by  the  fall  and  remained 
huddled  up  in  the  hole.  While  stunned,  I  was  not  uncon 
scious,  and  I  was  able  even  to  observe  the  action  of  the 
sentry;  instead  of  bringing  his  piece  to  the  salute  to  which 
as  an  Adjutant  I  was  entitled,  he  decided  that  the  excep 
tional  manner  of  my  reporting  called  for  a  fuller  measure 
of  respect.  He  presented  arms  as  if  I  had  been  a  field 


The  Adjutant  and  his  Horse  285 

officer.  As  however  he  said  nothing  I  had  no  legitimate 
ground  for  criticism.  I  managed  to  pick  myself  up  and 
asking  the  sentry  to  look  after  the  horse  made  my  way 
with  some  difficulty  to  the  Adjutant-General.  I  delivered 
my  despatches,  and  explaining  to  the  sentry  that  I  had 
no  present  further  requirement  for  the  beast,  went  to  the 
hospital  for  inspection  and  a  rest. 

At  this  time,  my  sister  Minnie  was  sojourning  in  New 
Orleans,  and  still  making  her  home  with  Mrs.  H.  She 
had,  as  before  related,  returned  to  New  Orleans  a  week 
or  two  before  the  capture  of  Brashear  City,  but  found 
herself  too  much  interested  in  the  exciting  life  of  an  active 
service  department  to  be  ready  to  go  back  to  the  com 
parative  uneventfulness  of  the  home  in  New  York.  My 
opportunities  for  seeing  her  were  but  few,  but  there  was 
a  satisfaction  in  thinking  of  her  as  within  reach.  Now 
that  I  was  a  commissioned  officer,  I  had  also  the  privilege 
of  calling  at  the  Colonel's  house,  which  naturally  it  would 
have  been  more  difficult  to  extend  to  a  sergeant.  Minnie 
did  not  succeed  in  again  getting  any  nearer  towards  the 
front  than  Camp  Parapet,  the  fortification  which  protected 
the  city  camp  on  the  north,  and  she  returned  to  New 
York  early  in  the  year  of  1864. 

General  Banks  had,  since  the  fall  of  Port  Hudson,  been 
engaged  in  recuperating  his  shattered  and  very  much 
exhausted  troops  and  in  arranging  for  filling  up  the 
depleted  ranks  of  the  old  regiments  with  recruits  from  the 
North.  Among  the  regiments  which  were  so  cared  for 
and  which  stood  in  fact  very  much  in  need  of  additional 
rank  and  file  was  the  I76th.  At  the  time  when  we 
youngsters  received  our  promotion  as  officers  of  the  re 
organised  battalion  we  had  left  hardly  sufficient  muskets 
for  battalion  drill.  The  losses  in  action  had  not  been  con 
siderable  but  the  swamp  had  gotten  in  its  deadly  work 
with  all  the  varieties  of  swamp  diseases.  We  secured  our 


286  Recruits  from  New  York  [1863 

new  reinforcements  from  the  North  in  a  lot  of  five  hund 
red  so-called  recruits  sent  from  New  York  City.  The 
operations  of  the  draft  had  already  gone  into  effect.  We 
had  had  news  of  the  draft  riots  in  New  York  of  July,  1863, 
riots  which,  if  I  remember  rightly,  were  going  on  at  the 
time  that  the  news  arrived  of  the  victories  of  Gettysburg 
and  Vicksburg. 

I  remember  the  indignation  of  our  own  New  York  City 
soldiers  as  the  reports  came  to  us  of  insurrection  and 
incendiarism,  and  of  the  attempts  made  to  block  the  all- 
essential  work  of  reinforcing  the  men  at  the  front.  We 
had  in  our  line  a  fair  proportion  of  Irishmen,  but  they  were 
as  eager  as  the  others  for  the  chance  of  getting  back  to 
New  York  to  get  one  blow  at  the  "  damned  Rebels  in  the 
rear, "  "Rebels"  who  were  made  up,  as  it  is  to  be  remem 
bered,  almost  exclusively  of  Irishmen.  The  draft  had, 
however,  gone  on  in  due  course  after  the  riots  had  been 
suppressed  and  a  large  proportion  of  the  men  who  were 
coming  to  us  were  brought  from  the  conscript  depot  at 
Riker's  Island.  I  heard  later  that  it  had  become  custom 
ary  for  the  judges  at  sessions  to  give  to  criminals  convicted 
of  minor  offences  the  choice  between  going  to  Blackwell's 
Island  for  the  usual  terms  of  four,  three,  or  six  months  or  of 
going  to  Riker's  Island  and  thus  helping  to  fill  the  quota 
of  the  State.  Quite  a  number  of  these  ruffians  of  the 
smaller  class  took  the  chances  on  Riker's  Island  either 
from  a  readiness  for  adventure  or  because  they  trusted  to 
an  opportunity  of  getting  away  before  being  finally  placed 
in  the  ranks.  As  a  result,  the  material  that  was  coming 
to  the  front  included  a  good  deal  of  rubbish  and  worse 
than  rubbish,  and  we  youngsters  who  were  beginning  work 
under  our  new  commissions  had  our  hands  full.  Of  the 
five  hundred  men  who  were  turned  over  to  the  iy6th 
about  one  hundred  were  as  unsatisfactory  a  set  of  rascals 
as  the  streets  of  New  York  could  produce.  At  the  close 


i863]  Recruits  from  New  York  287 

of  a  year,  a  goodly  proportion  of  these  had  for  various 
crimes  or  misdeeds  been  banished  to  the  Dry  Tortugas  or 
had  been  shot  or  had  deserted  into  the  swamps.  Another 
portion  had  become  interested  in  the  soldier's  life  and  am 
bitious  to  make  a  record  for  themselves  and  had  managed 
to  outgrow  their  old-time  tendencies  to  riotous  conduct. 

We  were  left  with  something  over  four  hundred  who  had 
become  good  working  material  for  soldiers  and  with  these 
men  the  three-years'  regiment  made  for  itself  before  the 
war  was  over  a  very  good  record.  The  first  year  was, 
however,  very  hard  on  us  youngsters.  I  found  myself 
more  than  once  in  the  middle  of  camp  brawls  in  which  the 
General  Sessions  men,  more  or  less  drunk,  were  engaged  in 
bullying  and  pillaging  the  decent  chaps.  I  had  remem 
bered  reading  in  a  long  series  of  romances  instances  in 
which  the  stalwart  young  hero  would,  in  the  moment  of 
emergency,  strike  out  with  his  left  and  the  villain  would 
promptly  tumble  over.  My  villains  had  a  bad  habit  of 
not  behaving  according  to  the  precedent  of  the  romances. 
My  "left"  was  not  a  very  stalwart  one  and  the  rascals 
whom  I  was  trying  to  subdue  were  not  only  as  a  rule  much 
stronger  in  physique  but  had  a  knowledge  in  the  use  of 
their  fists  which  I  had  never  secured.  As  a  result,  it  was 
the  representative  of  law  and  order  or  of  the  discipline  of 
the  United  States  Army  who  in  the  person  of  the  small 
Adjutant  was  frequently  the  under  man  in  the  fight.  I 
was  obliged  to  abandon  the  heroic  attitude  business,  and 
to  go  into  the  brawls  with  weapons  in  readiness,  and  the 
young  officers  who  co-operated  in  the  same  troublesome 
work  of  enforcing  discipline  soon  realised  with  myself 
the  necessity  for  the  occasional  stroke  with  the  sword  or 
shot  with  the  pistol.  When  the  Bowery  boys  learned 
that  the  young  officers  meant  business,  they  began  either 
to  behave  or  to  desert,  and  after  a  time  in  one  way  or 
another  we  did  get  rid  of  the  worst  of  them. 


288  The  Adjutant's  Clerk  [1863- 

Among  the  recruits  who  were  sent  down  from  New 
York,  I  found  an  educated  Austrian  who  had  carried  a 
lieutenant's  commission  in  the  imperial  army  and  had 
been  wounded  at  Solferino.  Lieutenant  Seibert  had  heard 
in  Vienna  that  the  American  army  was  much  in  need  of 
trained  officers  and  that  any  man  with  experience  in  a 
European  army  could  be  assured  of  prompt  advancement 
in  the  American  service.  With  ambition  for  a  higher 
commission,  he  had  resigned  from  his  home  regiment  and 
had  imported  himself  into  New  York.  He  landed  with 
no  knowledge  of  English  and  with  absolute  ignorance  of 
American  conditions.  He  was  caught  at  the  landing  by 
a  runner  who  told  him  that  a  man  of  his  experience  would 
have  no  difficulty  in  securing  in  the  near  future  a  briga 
dier's  commission,  but  that,  according  to  the  routine  of 
the  American  army,  it  was  necessary  for  their  officers 
to  pass  through  the  ranks  as  enlisted  men.  Seibert  was 
taken  over  to  Riker's  Island,  where  his  runner  pocketed 
the  bounty  (some  hundreds  of  dollars)  that  was  being  paid 
in  1864,  and  gave  to  the  Austrian  ten  dollars  as  a  bonus, 
and  Seibert  found  himself  a  week  or  two  later  bound  for 
New  Orleans,  with  the  group  of  New  York  roughs  above 
referred  to.  I  had  noticed  one  day  at  drill  that  the  man 
was  limping,  and  also  that  he  did  not  understand  the 
orders  given  in  English.  I  had  him  detailed  as  my 
Adjutant  clerk,  and  as  he  wrote  a  beautiful  script,  and 
had  had  previous  experience  with  regimental  records,  I 
found  him  a  very  serviceable  assistant.  The  reports  of 
the  1 76th  under  his  management  won  prestige  as  among 
the  best  in  the  division,  but  the  Adjutant's  clerk  never 
became  a  brigadier-general. 

The  regimental  adjutant  had  a  large  share  of  the  re 
sponsibility  for  discipline  and  for  the  maintenance  of 
order  in  camp.  The  commanding  officer  of  the  regiment, 
with  the  major  and  adjutant,  constituted  as  a  rule  what  is 


i864]  The  Regimental  Court  289 

known  as  the  regimental  court.  The  1 76th,  unfortunately, 
lost,  at  the  time  of  its  reorganisation,  the  service  of  Major 
Morgans,  who  was  transferred  for  detached  duty.  He 
was  succeeded  by  Major  L.,  who  had  secured  his  promo 
tion  for  gallantry  in  the  field  of  action  from  a  regiment 
in  the  army  of  the  Potomac.  L.  was  a  good  fighting 
man,  but  found  it  very  difficult  to  endure  the  ennui  of 
life  between  fights.  In  such  quiet  times,  he  got  into  the 
habit  of  continuous  drinking,  and  he  gave  very  little 
attention  to  his  responsibilities  for  the  management  of 
the  regiment.  The  Colonel  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  were 
during  the  rest  of  the  war  prisoners  in  Texas,  and  the 
regimental  court,  at  the  frequent  times  when  the  Major 
was  sleeping  off  the  effect  of  a  conviviality  of  the  preceding 
evening,  comprised  the  Adjutant  alone.  A  frequent 
source  of  trouble  in  camp,  trouble  that  sometimes  devel 
oped  into  a  camp  row,  came,  as  is  frequently  the  case  in 
army  life,  from  card  playing.  I  found  that  the  Irish  and 
American  soldiers  were  instructing  the  Germans  (who  com 
prised  a  considerable  group  among  the  new  recruits)  in  the 
noble  art  of  poker,  and  that  the  instruction  came  to  be 
rather  expensive  for  the  Germans.  I  happened  to  be  the 
only  officer  in  the  regiment  who  spoke  German,  and  as 
well  on  that  ground  as  because  complaints  came  very 
generally  in  any  case  to  the  Adjutant,  the  Germans  were 
accustomed  to  come  to  me  with  their  difficulties.  "1st 
es  nicht  eine  Schande,  Hen  Adjutant,"  that  a  man  should 
hold  in  succession  (of  course  the  word  went  on  in  German) 
four  aces,  four  kings,  four  queens,  and  four  knaves?  I 
agreed  with  my  German  friend  that  it  was  "eine  Schande, " 
and  I  usually  found  on  investigation  that  the  clever 
holder  of  honours  by  fours  had  at  his  disposal  two  or 
more  packs  of  cards  with  identical  backs.  The  packs 
of  cards  would  be  confiscated  (the  Adjutant  came  to 
have  quite  a  collection  which  he  distributed  among  such 

19 


290  The  Work  of  the  Adjutant  [1864 

of  his  friends  as  were  card  players)  and  the  stakes  were 
returned. 

One  of  the  difficulties  that  came  upon  the  Adjutant  in 
the  matter  of  discipline  had  to  do  with  the  drummer  boys. 
The  twenty  boys  who  constituted  the  drum-corps  were 
supposed  to  be  taken  care  of  by  the  drum-major,  but  they 
were  an  enterprising  and  cocky  set  of  young  rascals,  and 
very  easily  got  out  of  hand  in  one  fashion  or  another.  No 
one  drum-major  was  competent  to  protect  our  regimental 
camp,  and  still  less  the  camps  of  neighbouring  regiments, 
from  depredations  and  intrusions  of  one  kind  or  another 
from  the  young  scamps.  It  became  necessary  to  devise 
some  form  of  punishment  that  the  drummers  would 
respect  and  that  would  not  risk  disabling  them  from 
marching  or  from  service  as  drummers.  I  remember 
arranging  to  have  a  couple  of  the  boys  who  had  been  per 
sistently  absent  without  leave  march  up  and  down  in  front 
of  my  tent  for  terms  varying  from  fifteen  minutes  to 
two  hours,  carrying  in  their  knapsacks  damp  sand.  The 
punishment  at  the  outset  did  not  impress  the  boys  as 
serious,  but  with  every  additional  five  minutes  the  strain 
on  the  shoulders  became  more  severe,  and  by  the  time  he 
got  through  with  his  march,  the  knapsack  bearer  was  a 
very  tired  drummer  indeed,  and  was  earnest  in  his  pro 
fessions  of  good  conduct  for  the  future.  The  incident  is 
referred  to  merely  as  an  example  of  the  variety  of  the 
responsibilities  that  came  upon  us  young  officers  in  the 
management  of  our  regimental  family. 

According  to  the  army  regulations,  the  orders  issued  to 
the  regiment,  or  to  individual  members  of  the  regiment, 
did  not  need  to  be  signed  by  the  commanding  officer. 
They  bore  simply  the  signature  of  the  adjutant,  with 
the  words  "by  order  of  L.,  Major  commanding."  The 
wise  regimental  commander  interferes  very  little  with  the 
details  of  these  regimental  orders.  As  long  as  no  com- 


1864]  The  Work  of  the  Adjutant  291 

plaints  come  to  him  that  in  the  details  made  by  the 
adjutant  for  one  duty  or  another,  the  selections  have 
not  been  made  with  due  impartiality  and  with  the  neces 
sary  consideration  as  to  the  relative  effectiveness  of 
officers  for  the  several  classes  of  work,  the  commander 
leaves  with  the  adjutant  the  full  responsibility.  The 
same  would  be  the  routine  in  the  selection  of  companies 
for  skirmish  line,  for  picket  duty,  or  for  camp  work.  If 
an  adjutant  cannot,  after  a  little  experience,  be  trusted  to 
make  such  details  with  fairness,  with  judgment,  and  with 
discretion,  he  does  not  remain  adjutant. 

The  reports  going  up  to  the  brigade  or  post  commander 
through  his  adjutant  must  bear,  however,  in  addition  to 
the  signature  of  the  regimental  adjutant  that  of  the 
regimental  commander.  It  was  in  connection  with  this 
requirement  that  I  found  perplexity  from  morning  to 
morning  when  my  Major  had  the  night  before  had  a 
convivial  evening.  If  the  regimental  adjutant  and  com 
mander  were  not  to  get  into  trouble  with  their  superiors, 
the  report  had  to  be  delivered  by  a  certain  hour,  I  think 
by  ten  o'clock.  If  the  report  was  not  delivered,  or  when 
delivered  was  not  found  to  be  in  proper  form  and  con 
sistent  with  its  figures,  the  regimental  commissary  and 
quartermaster  were  not  in  a  position  to  have  their  require 
ments  for  supplies  duly  honoured.  It  is,  of  course,  not 
possible  for  a  brigade  commissary  to  issue  rations  to  a 
regiment  unless  he  has  before  him  the  verified  statement  as 
to  the  number  of  men  present  that  are  to  be  fed. 

On  the  first  morning  on  which  I  found  it  difficult  to  wake 
up  my  Major  at  the  proper  time,  I  wrote  his  name  on  the 
report  with  a  colourable  imitation  of  his  own  signature. 
This  was  before  my  arm  had  been  disabled  and  I  was  still 
able  to  manage  a  pen.  In  taking  the  report  up  to  bri 
gade  headquarters,  I  explained  to  the  brigade  adjutant 
that  my  commander  was  "sleeping  very  heavily"  and 


292  The  Work  of  the  Adjutant  [1863- 

that  I  had  put  his  name  on  the  report.  The  Captain,  a 
Connecticut  man,  was  a  good  friend  of  mine,  and  he 
understood  the  difficulty  with  which  I  had  to  contend. 
"I  guess  you  are  right,  Adjutant,"  he  said.  "If  the 
report  had  not  been  here  at  the  proper  time,  your  Major 
would  have  been  in  trouble  and  the  regiment  would  have 
had  discredit.  I  suppose,  however,  you  will  tell  your 
man  what  you  have  done."  "Yes,"  I  said,  "I  will  tell 
him." 

At  noon  I  waked  up  my  Major,  washed  his  face,  gave 
him  a  little  nip  of  brandy  to  start  the  day  right  and  a  cup 
of  coffee.  I  then  showed  him  the  copy  of  the  morning 
report  on  which  I  had,  in  like  manner,  written  his  signa 
ture.  I  said,  "Major,  you  were  sleeping  heavily  this 
morning,  and  I  thought  I  would  not  disturb  you  and  I 
placed  your  signature  on  the  report."  The  Major's  face 
clouded,  and  it  was  evidently  just  a  wave  of  the  hand 
which  way  he  would  take  it.  Forgery  of  the  name  of  one's 
commanding  officer  is  a  pretty  bad  kind  of  offence, 
and  if  the  Major  had  decided  to  be  ugly  in  the  matter 
and  had  been  willing  to  risk  the  consequences  for  himself, 
he  might  have  made  it  hot  for  me.  Whatever  thought 
went  through  his  mind  on  the  matter,  he  decided  that, 
under  the  existing  conditions,  the  best  thing  had  doubt 
less  been  done.  His  face  cleared  up  and  he  slapped  me  on 
the  back  with  the  words,  "Judy,  that's  a  capital  idea  of 
yours.  Now  you  sign  and  sign  and  sign  till  the  day  of 
judgment,  and  never  wake  me  up  again." 

As  a  result  of  this  general  authorisation  (the  Major  was 
square  enough  when  he  was  clear-headed  and  would  not 
go  back  upon  his  word),  the  control  of  regimental  affairs 
came  more  and  more  into  my  hands.  Some  of  the  com 
pany  commanders,  and  the  list  included  more  than  one 
old  enough  to  be  my  father,  became  restive,  and  as  I  heard 
later,  a  meeting  of  these  commanders  was  held  for 


1864]  The  Work  of  the  Adjutant  293 

the  purpose  of  considering  the  situation  and  of  deciding 
whether  the  cocky  young  Adjutant  had  better  not  be 
taken  in  hand.  The  contention,  however,  was  emphasised 
that  the  essential  thing  was  the  protection  of  the  good 
name  of  the  regiment,  and  that  the  Adjutant,  with  a 
special  problem  on  his  hands,  was  probably  doing  the 
best  that  could  be  done  towards  this  end.  If  this 
were  the  case,  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  support  the 
Adjutant  and  protect  as  far  as  might  be  possible  the 
reputation  of  the  Major.  This  view  prevailed,  and  I 
never  had  any  friction  on  this  score  of  the  exercise  of 
authority.  I  took  pains,  of  course,  also  to  apply  from 
time  to  time  for  counsel  to  one  or  two  of  the  older  of  these 
commanders,  particularly  to  those  who  had,  as  I  heard, 
raised  the  first  criticism  or  question. 

As  far  as  I  was  able  to  learn  from  later  experience,  the 
difficulty  that  confronted  this  particular  Adjutant  was 
not  exceptional.  I  came  to  have  the  impression  (although 
as  an  Adjutant  I  doubtless  took  a  subjective  view  of  the 
matter)  that  for  the  effective  work  done  in  the  army, 
whether  in  regiments,  brigades,  divisions,  or  independent 
commands,  the  real  credit  belonged  very  largely  to  the 
adjutant.  A  brigade  or  division  commander  could  be, 
and  during  the  first  two  years  of  the  war  very  frequently 
was,  a  political  accident.  He  might  have  little  or  no 
military  capacity,  and  he  might,  like  my  own  Major, 
while  a  fair  fighting  man,  find  his  judgment  and  capacity 
clouded  from  time  to  time  by  drinking.  As  I  once  heard 
a  man  in  the  ranks  remark,  "if  a  soldier  gets  his  head 
shot  off,  he  stops  fighting,  but  one  of  them  damned  briga 
diers  will  lose  his  head  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  fight 
and  will  go  right  on  pretending  to  command  just  the  same." 

If  the  work  of  an  adjutant  is  not  properly  done,  he  does 
not,  and  in  fact  could  not,  remain  adjutant.  The  whole 
machine  would  fall  to  pieces.  He  has  got  to  stay  sober, 


294  The  Regiment  en  Route  [1863- 

because  there  is  too  much  work  going  on  to  leave  much 
time  for  drinking,  and  the  confusion  caused  by  drink 
would  bring  the  work  to  naught.  The  figures  in  the 
reports  must  be  made  to  tally.  I  realised  later  in  cam 
paign  experience  how  largely  the  responsibility  for  the 
choice  of  ground  whether  for  camping  or  for  righting,  for 
the  choice  of  marching  routes,  for  the  selection  for  an 
important  piece  of  work  of  the  men  or  of  the  individual 
officer  who  was  to  lead  the  men,  and  even  for  the  issue 
of  emergency  orders  during  action,  rested  with  the  adju 
tants.  The  glory  of  the  success,  if  there  came  to  be  a 
success,  fell,  of  course,  to  the  general  in  command. 
This  is,  however,  an  individual  expression  of  opinion,  and 
as  it  comes  from  an  adjutant,  it  must  be  taken  with  due 
allowance. 

In  September  of  1863,  a  plan  was  on  foot  for  an  advance 
on  Mobile  which  was  to  be  made  with  a  combination  of 
the  forces  of  General  Banks  marching  eastward  from  New 
Orleans  with  a  column  coming  from  the  north  that  was  to 
be  detached  from  the  army  that  had  been  besieging  Vicks- 
burg.  I  do  not  know  whether  this  plan  originated  with 
the  commander  of  the  Department  of  the  Gulf  or  had  been 
suggested  from  Washington.  In  any  case,  it  did  not 
develop  very  far.  Two  divisions  of  troops  from  the 
Mississippi,  including  that  to  which  my  own  regiment 
belonged,  were  taken  on  transports,  convoyed  by  a  couple 
of  gunboats,  across  Lake  Pontchartrain,  and  went  into 
camp  at  a  place  called  Madison ville  on  the  eastern  end  of 
the  lake.  I  believe  that  it  was  on  this  occasion  that  we 
had  trouble  in  getting  the  troops  through  the  city  and 
out  to  the  New  Orleans  end  of  the  lake  where  we  took  the 
transports.  We  youngsters  who  had  only  recently 
secured  our  commissions  were  still  puzzling  over  the 
problems  of  control  and  discipline,  problems  which  were,  as 
indicated,  the  more  serious  with  our  particular  regiment 


1864]  The  Regiment  en  Route  295 

in  connection  with  the  large  proportion  it  now  contained  of 
recruits  and  conscripts  gathered  in  from  the  streets  of 
New  York.  On  this  occasion  we  made  the  trip  in  good 
shape  from  Bonnet  Carre  to  the  city,  coming  down  by 
transports. 

We  were  marched  into  Lafayette  Square  where  we  had 
gone  into  camp  a  year  earlier  at  the  time  of  our  first  land 
ing.  We  were  obliged  to  wait  there  for  an  hour  or  two 
until  the  train  for  the  lake  should  be  in  readiness.  We 
realised  very  quickly  that  unless  we  could  prevent  the 
entrance  of  liquor  to  the  square,  we  should  have  a  trouble 
some  set  of  men  on  our  hands.  The  most  trustworthy  of 
the  older  men,  including  under  the  emergency  certain  of 
the  non-commissioned  officers,  were  put  on  guard  at  the 
two  or  three  entrances  to  the  square,  but  it  was  not  possi 
ble  to  keep  the  sutlers  (who  were  in  this  case  represented 
very  largely  by  the  so-called  bumboat  women)  from 
passing  the  liquor  in  through  the  open  railings.  The 
41  liquor"  in  this  case  was  not  even  decent  American 
whiskey  but  the  worst  kind  of  Louisiana  rum,  the  kind 
which  in  camp  parlance  was  known  as  "rotgut."  This 
was  made,  as  I  understood,  from  the  dregs  of  the  sugar. 
Those  drinking  it,  instead  of  becoming  cheerily  excited 
or  solidly  drunk,  are  put  into  a  raving,  and  often  danger 
ous,  condition  of  excitement.  The  stuff  was  in  fact  rank 
poison.  In  the  course  of  an  hour  the  larger  portion  of  our 
men  were  fighting  as  if  they  had  been  denizens  of  Donny- 
brook.  They  could  not  get  out  of  the  square,  but  within 
the  railings  pandemonium  reigned. 

With  some  aid  from  a  regiment  that  had  arrived  later 
and  that  had  not  had  time  to  get  drunk,  the  men  were 
finally,  with  a  good  deal  of  steering  and  pushing,  gotten 
on  to  the  train  and  resumed  their  fighting  on  the  cars.  I 
was  the  last  man  on,  as  it  was  the  business  of  myself  with 
the  aid  of  the  sergeant-major  to  check  the  rolls  and  see 


296  The  Regiment  en  Route  [1863- 

that  nobody  was  left  behind.  As  I  scrambled  on  to  the 
platform  of  the  last  car,  the  train  was  well  in  motion  and 
I  could  hear  my  fellow-officers  within  fighting  for  peace 
and  order.  On  the  platform  lay  prostrate  a  drummer  boy 
who  was  probably  sober  but  who  was  nearly  unconscious 
through  the  weight  of  a  very  much  drunk  conscript  who 
had  tumbled  on  top  of  him.  I  went  for  the  conscript  in 
order  to  save  the  boy  from  being  pushed  off,  and  the  latter 
slipped  from  under  and  made  his  way  into  the  safer 
enclosure  of  the  car.  The  soldier  was  much  heavier  than 
myself  but  was  just  drunk  enough  to  make  the  tussle 
fairly  even.  We  fell  together  and  fortunately  for  myself 
I  fell  on  top.  He  was  doing  his  utmost  to  throw  me  off  the 
platform  and  I  as  my  best  resource  got  my  none  too  large 
fists  about  his  windpipe  and  began  to  choke  the  breath 
out  of  him.  When  he  got  black  in  the  face,  I  became 
frightened  and  let  up  a  little,  and  then  with  renewed  energy 
he  resumed  his  efforts  to  chuck  me  on  to  the  rails.  The 
train  at  this  time  was  going  at  what  was  called  for  military 
transportation  full  speed,  probably  ten  miles  an  hour. 
The  trip  fortunately  was  a  brief  one,  the  distance  being 
only  about  six  miles,  but  it  seemed  to  me  to  last  for  hours. 
When  we  arrived  at  the  lake  end  I  do  not  know  which  was 
the  more  exhausted,  the  drunken  chap  with  his  face  still 
pretty  black,  or  the  Adjutant  who  had  succeeded  in  main 
taining  his  place  on  top. 

At  the  lake  we  secured  further  help.  No  rum  was 
within  reach  and  the  soldiers  who  had  preceded  us  a  day 
or  two  earlier  were  of  necessity  sober.  Our  drunken 
delinquents  were  bound  and  laid  nicely  on  their  backs  on 
the  mud  or  on  the  boards  of  a  series  of  bathing-houses  that 
lined  the  strands.  The  more  obstreperous  or  vociferous 
among  them  had  bayonets  tied  neatly  into  their  mouths 
and  fastened  back  of  their  ears.  A  bayonet  so  inserted 
has  a  very  pacifying  effect  on  a  man  who  wants  to  swear,  to 


1864]  Rations  and  Munitions  297 

shout,  or  to  talk;  as  long  as  he  keeps  quiet  it  does  not  hurt 
him  very  much.  The  next  morning,  our  delinquents  were 
stiff,  sore,  and  fairly  penitent.  Troublesome  as  the  fight 
was,  it  did  have  some  effect  in  asserting  the  authority  of 
the  young  officers  over  their  rank  and  file.  I  look  back 
upon  this  afternoon  as  one  of  the  most  exhausting  in  my 
campaign  experiences. 

The  sojourn  in  Madison ville  was  in  more  ways  than 
one  attractive.  We  had  for  once  gotten  away  from  the 
swamp  country  and  found  ourselves  on  a  clean  dry  bluff 
in  the  midst  of  pine  woods  and  with  some  comfortable 
houses  about  us  which  were  still  inhabited  (by  women 
and  children  only)  and  which  had  thus  far  suffered  little 
from  war  ravages.  I  recalled  in  examining  the  village 
and  in  talking  with  the  women  an  incident  of  some  months 
back  before  we  had  undertaken  to  occupy  the  place  but 
when  the  authorities  in  New  Orleans  still  felt  more  or  less 
responsible  for  the  care  of  the  people  who  were  left  there. 
A  report  had  come  in  that  the  women  and  children  at 
the  eastern  end  of  the  lake  were  in  a  state  of  starvation, 
and  arrangements  were  made  for  shipping  across  the  lake 
for  their  use  some  army  rations.  One  of  the  quarter 
masters,  whom  I  happened  to  know,  was  detailed  for  a 
day's  •  work  in  superintending  the  shipments.  He  told 
me  that  he  was  checking  off  by  his  schedule  certain  barrels 
of  corn  meal  that  were  being  rolled  on  to  the  barge.  One 
of  the  barrels  slipped  from  the  hands  of  the  darky  who 
was  steering  it  on  the  gangplank,  and  falling  a  few  feet, 
burst  asunder.  From  the  broken  barrel  rolled  out  on  to 
the  ground  a  keg  which  when  examined  proved  to  be 
"loaded"  with  percussion  caps.  Some  Confederate  sym 
pathiser  within  the  city  had  made  use  of  this  shipment  of 
provisions  (it  is  quite  possible  in  fact  that  they  had  them 
selves  reported  upon  the  starvation  condition)  to  get  across 
the  lines  to  their  Rebel  friends  certain  munitions  of  war. 


298  Rations  and  Munitions         [1863-1864] 

The  disclosure  from  the  one  barrel  necessitated  of  course 
an  examination  of  the  entire  shipment  so  that  my  quarter 
master  friend  had  his  hands  full.  Enough  supplies  of 
powder,  of  percussion  caps,  etc.,  were  discovered  to 
libel  the  whole  shipment  as  contraband.  I  do  not  know 
whether  or  not  the  connecting  links  were  ever  traced,  but 
it  is  probable  that  the  spirit  of  benevolence  that  had 
permitted  the  feeding  of  the  women  and  children  of  Madi- 
sonville  was  thereafter  lessened. 

We  were  in  camp  at  Madisonville  for  but  a  few  weeks. 
Word  then  came  that  the  combination  with  the  Vicksburg 
troops  was  not  to  come  off.  The  force  that  could  be 
spared  from  New  Orleans  was  not  in  itself  strong  enough  to 
conduct  a  campaign  against  Mobile.  Our  troops  were 
therefore  ordered  back  again  across  the  lake  and  returned 
to  their  camps  along  the  river. 

The  winter  of  1863-64  was  marked  by  no  important 
military  event.  The  hold  of  the  army  on  the  State  was 
gradually  strengthened.  With  the  fall  of  Port  Hudson 
the  last  of  the  Rebel  war  craft  had  disappeared  from  the 
river  or  from  the  adjacent  bayous,  and  with  the  exception 
of  an  occasional  raid  from  a  flying  battery  the  Mississippi 
now  flowed  "un vexed"  to" the  sea  as  a  fairly  safe  highway 
for  Uncle  Sam's  gunboats  and  transports. 


XIV 
THe  Red  River  Campaign 

TE  authorities  in  Washington,  having  regard  rather 
to  political  requirements  than  to  campaign  con 
ditions,  considered  it  important  that  before  the  time 
came  for  the  next  State  election,  the  whole  territory  of 
Louisiana,  or  at  least  the  larger  portion  of  this  territory, 
should  be  under  the  control  of  our  army.  It  was  also 
considered  very  desirable,  equally  on  political  grounds, 
to  secure  a  substantial  footing  in  Texas  for  the  Stars  and 
Stripes.  With  this  general  purpose,  a  scheme  was  worked 
out  under  which  General  Banks,  with  his  force  strength 
ened  by  a  contingent  from  the  army  that  had  been  em 
ployed  about  Vicksburg,  should  make  his  way  up  the  Red 
River  to  Shreveport  (which  was  then  serving  as  the  Rebel 
capital  of  the  State)  and  as  far  westward  from  Shreveport 
as  possible.  He  was  to  have  the  co-operation  of  the  army 
under  Steele  that  was  then  operating  in  Arkansas.  Steele 
was  expected  to  join  hands  with  Banks  at  Shreveport  and 
to  supply  such  troops  as  might  be  needed  for  the  further 
advance  on  Texas.  For  this  plan  it  was  probable  that 
General  Halleck  was  responsible.  The  first  steps  towards 
the  carrying  out  of  the  rather  complex  combination  had 
been  taken  a  month  or  two  before  General  Grant  replaced 
Halleck  as  commander-in-chief. 

Early  in  March,  troops  began  to  arrive  from  General 

299 


300  The  Red  River  Campaign  [1864 

Sherman's  army,  these  troops  having  been  selected  from 
the  Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth  Army  Corps.  Sherman  had 
placed  these  divisions  under  the  command  of  a  trusted  asso 
ciate,  General  Andrew  J.  Smith.  Smith  was  a  West 
Pointer,  but,  according  to  my  recollection,  was  not  charac 
terised  by  the  finish  that  we  associate  with  the  officers  of 
the  regular  army.  He  was  a  fighter  from  the  ground  up  and 
had  as  varied  and  emphatic  a  collection  of  oaths  as  was 
possessed  by  the  most  talented  mule-driver  in  the  army, 
and  that  was  saying  a  great  deal.  He  had  secured  with 
his  own  men  the  fullest  possible  measure  of  confidence, 
and  later,  in  the  troublesome  days  of  the  Red  River 
retreat,  we  came  to  understand  how  thoroughly  this 
confidence  was  justified  by  the  character  of  the  fighting 
general. 

The  army,  in  its  progress  up  the  Red  River,  was  to  have 
the  co-operation  of  the  fleet  of  river  gunboats  commanded 
by  Admiral  Porter.  These  gunboats  were  nearly  all 
of  them  of  the  variety  known  as  "turtles."  Their  draft 
was  light  in  proportion  to  their  armament.  The  smoke 
stacks  showed  not  very  high  above  the  water-line.  They 
carried  an  armour  plating  of  a  thickness  which  to-day 
would  be  considered  hardly  worth  calling  a  protection. 
Some  of  the  boats  bore  the  name  of  tin-clads.  The 
armour  had  very  little  if  any  resisting  power  for  round 
shot  or  for  shell,  but  did  serve  to  protect  the  body  of  the 
boat  from  the  rifle  bullets.  With  the  gunboats  came 
the  fleet  transports.  Some  of  these  were  utilised  for 
troops  in  order  to  lessen  the  pressure  on  the  road  and  thus 
to  hasten  the  advance,  but  the  greater  portion  of  the  boat 
space  was  devoted  to  supplies  of  food,  forage,  and  ammuni 
tion.  With  the  transports  came  certain  empty  barges  the 
purpose  of  which  we  were  to  learn  later. 

The  advance  up  the  river  was  opposed  by  General 
Dick  Taylor,  who  had  already  given  evidence  of  his  fight- 


i864]  The  Red  River  Campaign  301 

ing  qualities  and  who  was,  at  the  date  of  our  advance, 
holding  the  country  from  Simsport  to  Opelousas.  Dick 
Taylor  constituted  a  serious  " obstacle"  to  our  plan  of 
advance  and  he  had,  in  addition  to  his  troops  and  his  own 
fighting  capacity,  the  advantage  of  campaigning  in  a  very 
difficult  country,  the  difficulties  in  which  were  much  greater 
for  the  assailants,  to  whom  it  was  comparatively  unfamil 
iar,  than  to  the  defenders.  By  the  middle  of  March,  the 
greater  portion  of  the  troops  selected  for  the  expedition 
were  assembled  at  the  mouth  of  the  Red  River.  The 
first  portion  of  the  active  work  was  confided  to  General 
Smith,  who  also  some  months  later  did  some  of  the  most 
active  of  the  work  that  was  required  by  the  rear-guard  on 
the  retreat.  Grover's  division  of  the  Nineteenth  Corps 
with  which  the  iy6th  Regiment  was  associated,  found  its 
way  into  Alexandria  on  the  25th  of  March.  We  were  called 
upon  for  some  little  skirmishing  along  the  forest  road,  but 
the  most  important  part  of  the  fighting  had  been  done, 
before  we  got  up,  by  General  Smith  with  his  Western 
troops,  in  the  capture  of  Fort  de  Russy.  Porter's  fleet 
had  also  made  its  way  up  the  river,  breaking  through 
certain  rather  serious  obstructions,  and  taking  possession 
of  a  few  river  gunboats  that  had  been  abandoned  by  the 
Rebels.  The  headquarters  of  my  regiment  were  at  Alex 
andria  for  a  number  of  weeks.  It  was  our  fortune,  good 
or  bad  as  may  be  interpreted,  to  be  left  in  the  rear  on 
garrison  duty  when  the  army,  having  completed  its  pre 
parations,  started  for  the  further  movement  up  the  river. 
I  found,  in  reading  later  the  record  of  the  campaign,  that 
General  Banks  was  at  this  time  under  certain  special  per 
plexities.  Under  the  instructions  given  to  General 
Steele,  who  could  now  no  longer  be  reached  even  by  the 
roundabout  route  of  Little  Rock,  Steele  was  to  expect 
Banks  at  Shreveport  before  the  close  of  April.  Shortly 
after  the  capture  of  Alexandria,  however,  instructions 


302  The  Red  River  Campaign  [1864 

were  received  from  General  Grant,  who  had  then  taken 
command  of  the  whole  army,  looking  to  the  co-operation 
of  the  more  effective  forces  in  the  Department  of  the 
Gulf  in  a  combined  movement  to  overwhelm  the  Rebel 
forces  in  the  Southern  division  of  the  States  east  of  the 
Mississippi.  Grant  was  a  believer  in  the  concentration 
of  the  resources  in  his  command  so  that  these  might  be 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  two  remaining  armies  of  the 
Confederacy.  He  was  entirely  opposed  to  Halleck's 
scheme  (a  scheme  which,  as  explained,  was  political  rather 
than  military)  of  scattering  important  divisions  of  his 
troops  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  about  a  more  or  less 
nominal  control  of  political  territory.  It  was  hardly 
practicable  at  this  late  date  to  withdraw  Banks 's  army 
from  the  Red  River.  The  orders  were  explicit,  however, 
that  if  Shreveport  were  not  taken  by  the  25th  of  April, 
then  the  troops  loaned  from  the  Mississippi  army  were 
to  be  returned,  even  though  this  should  lead  to  the  aban 
donment  of  the  expedition. 

By  the  time  that  Banks  was  ready  to  march  westward 
from  Alexandria,  he  had  but  twenty-six  days  remaining 
before  the  date  fixed  by  the  commanding  officer  for  the 
breaking  up  of  his  army.  He  could  in  any  case  not  get 
away  from  Alexandria  until  the  river,  which  was  slowly 
rising,  was  high  enough  to  .enable  the  gunboats  to  pass 
the  difficult  rapids  which  obstruct  the  river  just  above  the 
town.  What  happened  to  Banks 's  army  between  Alexan 
dria  and  Shreveport  is  a  matter  of  history.  My  narrative 
is  of  necessity  confined  to  personal  experiences  with  my 
own  regiment  which,  as  explained,  was  left  with  the  rear 
guard  at  Alexandria.  It  is  sufficient  here  to  say  that, 
advancing  under  some  pressure  of  speed  and  with  what 
now  appears  to  have  been  almost  criminal  carelessness  in 
the  presence  of  an  enemy  as  active  and  as  capable  as  Dick 
Taylor,  Banks 's  advance  guard  was  pressed  forward  too  far 


1864]  The  Red  River  Campaign  303 

in  advance  of  the  rest  of  the  army,  and  being  sharply 
attacked  at  Sabine  Cross  Roads,  had  to  make  every  effort 
to  save  itself  from  being  overwhelmed.  The  advantage 
of  this  first  fight  certainly  rested  with  the  Rebels.  In 
the  fight  of  a  day  or  two  later  at  Pleasant  Hill,  our  army 
succeeded  in  administering  a  satisfactory  counter  stroke. 
The  delay  caused  by  the  first  repulse  was,  however,  so 
considerable  that  it  was  evidently  not  going  to  be  practi 
cable  to  complete  the  campaign  within  the  date  first  fixed 
by  General  Grant.  It  also  happened,  moreover,  that  fur 
ther  instructions  came  from  Grant,  brought  in  person  by 
General  Corse,  ordering  the  return  by  the  loth  of  April 
of  General  Smith's  troops.  Our  army  was  within  four 
days'  march  of  Shreveport,  and,  in  spite  of  the  losses  in  the 
two  battles,  was  still  considerably  stronger  in  numbers 
than  the  Rebel  forces.  Under  the  pressure,  however,  of 
Grant's  instructions,  it  was  evident  that  the  campaign 
could  not  be  completed  on  the  original  plan.  It  only 
remained  to  get  back  to  the  Mississippi  as  promptly  as 
possible  and  to  send  word  in  some  way  across  to  Steele's 
army  to  prevent  him  from  undertaking  alone  the  assault 
on  Shreveport.  It  was,  of  course,  an  essential  defect  in 
Halleck's  whole  plan  of  campaign  that  it  depended  upon  a 
successful  combination  of  a  fleet  and  of  three  armies, 
armies  which  were  separated  by  many  hundreds  of  miles. 
For  the  troops  which  had  been  left  in  Alexandria  to 
protect  the  rear,  there  were  for  a  fortnight  no  very  active 
duties.  We  completed,  under  instructions  from  the  en 
gineers,  lines  of  earthworks  to  protect  our  encampment 
against  any  sudden  assault,  earthworks  which  became 
later  of  importance  when,  after  the  main  army  had  found 
its  way  back  to  Alexandria,  the  advance  of  Taylor's 
force  came  up  almost  to  within  touch  of  our  picket  line. 
Within  about  a  week's  time  after  we  had  taken  up  this 
rear-guard  position  at  Alexandria,  connection  with  New 


304  The  Defence  of  Alexandria  [1864 

Orleans  and  through  New  Orleans  with  the  North  was 
cut  off.  The  active  field  artillery  of  Dick  Taylor  had 
succeeded  in  so  placing  its  guns  at  various  points  difficult 
for  river  navigation  that  it  was  impracticable  to  force  up 
the  stream  either  transports  or  gunboats.  One  or  two 
boats  were  captured  at  this  time  and  others  made  their 
way  back  with  greater  or  less  difficulty  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Red  River.  Our  rear-guard  had  no  instructions  at 
that  time  to  take  action  against  these  river  batteries,  and 
in  fact  it  would  probably  not  have  been  safe  for  us  to 
have  left  our  works  in  Alexandria  for  any  such  purpose, 
the  more  particularly  as  some  of  the  most  annoying  of 
the  batteries  were  from  some  fifty  to  eighty  miles  distant. 

There  were  at  this  time  available  no  river  gunboats  of 
any  force  excepting  those  which  were  engaged  higher  up 
the  stream  in  protecting  the  flank  of  the  main  army. 
The  stoppage  of  the  river  had  the  effect  of  cutting  off 
supplies  and  made  it  necessary  to  lessen  our  daily  ration. 
The  necessity  of  limiting  rations  became  the  greater 
because  we  had  assumed  the  obligation  of  feeding  the 
women  and  children  in  the  town.  The  men  folk  of  these 
same  Alexandrian  families  were  at  this  time  largely 
engaged  in  cutting  our  connections  and  in  preventing  any 
additional  supplies  from  reaching  us.  Under  the  ordinary 
routine  of  warfare  as  practised  in  Europe,  the  women  and 
children  of  these  opposing  forces  would  have  received 
scant  attention  and  would  certainly  not  have  been  per 
mitted,  in  reducing  our  available  food  supplies,  to  lessen 
our  prospects  for  making  a  successful  defence.  But  the 
American  standard  of  warfare  as  carried  on  in  districts 
which  were  still  claimed  to  be  a  part  of  the  American 
Republic  was  of  necessity  a  different  one. 

When  the  fortifications  were  completed,  our  rear-guard 
had  some  leisure  on  its  hands  and  took  up  certain  things 
in  the  way  of  amusements.  I  remember  helping  to  organ- 


Baseball  Under  Fire  3°5 

ise  for  our  own  regiment  a  baseball  nine  which  won  the 
championship  of  the  rear-guard,  defeating  some  active 
nines  from  Connecticut  and  Massachusetts.  For  our  regi 
mental  team  I  served  as  pitcher  and  I  believe  as  captain. 

The  baseball  contests  were,  however,  brought  suddenly 
to  a  close  through  an  unfortunate  misunderstanding  with 
the  Rebels,  upon  whose  considerateness  in  this  matter  of 
sports  we  had,  it  appeared,  placed  too  much  confidence. 
We  found  no  really  satisfactory  ground  for  baseball 
within  the  lines  of  our  fortifications  and,  after  experiment 
ing  with  a  field  just  outside  of  the  earthworks,  we  con 
cluded  to  take  the  risk  of  using  a  better  field  which  was 
just  outside  of  the  line  of  the  pickets.  It  was,  of  course, 
entirely  contrary  not  only  to  ordinary  regulations  but  to 
special  orders  prohibiting  any  men  from  going  through 
the  picket  lines.  It  was  particularly  absurd  for  men 
without  arms  to  run  any  such  risk.  I  do  not  now  under 
stand  how  the  officers  of  the  I76th,  including  the  major 
commanding,  could  have  permitted  themselves  to  incur 
such  a  breach  of  discipline,  but  the  thing  was  done  and 
trouble  resulted  therefrom. 

We  were  winning  a  really  beautiful  game  from  the  I3th 
Connecticut,  a  game  in  which  our  own  pickets,  who  were 
the  only  spectators,  found  themselves  much  interested. 
Suddenly  there  came  a  scattering  fire  of  which  the  three 
fielders  caught  the  brunt :  the  centre  field  was  hit  and  was 
captured,  the  left  and  right  field  managed  to  get  into  our 
lines.  Our  pickets  fell  forward  with  all  possible  prompt 
ness  as  the  players  fell  back.  The  Rebel  attack,  which 
was  made  with  merely  a  skirmish  line,  was  repelled  with 
out  serious  difficulty,  but  we  had  lost  not  only  our  centre 
field  but  our  baseball  and  it  was  the  only  baseball  in 
Alexandria. 

Further  than  that,  when  the  captain  in  charge  of  the 
pickets  (a  member  of  my  own  regiment  whom  I  had  myself 


306  Fighting  on  the  River  [1864 

detailed  for  the  work)  made  up  the  report  of  his  day's 
operations,  he  was  obliged  to  include  the  fact  that  a 
number  of  the  men  of  the  17 6th  had  been  guilty  of  a 
breach  of  discipline.  We  were  called  up  before  General 
Grover,  the  commander  of  the  post,  and  received  a  severe 
rating,  to  which  we  were  fairly  entitled.  It  happened, 
however,  that  Grover's  attention  on  the  following  day 
was  very  much  absorbed  in  receiving  from  the  front  the 
first  groups  of  the  wounded  men  and  the  reports  of  the 
defeat  at  Sabine  Cross  Roads.  This  news,  involving,  as 
it  was  understood  it  would  involve,  the  abandonment  of 
the  attempt  to  capture  Shreveport  and  an  entire  change 
in  the  campaign,  was  sufficiently  serious  to  put  into  the 
background  our  little  escapade. 

The  first  column  of  the  returning  soldiers  was  followed 
in  due  course  by  the  main  body  of  the  army.  The  rear 
guard  came  some  days  later,  having  been  detained  in 
order  to  help  protect  the  retreating  fleet  from  the  assaults 
of  the  Rebel  sharpshooters  and  of  the  Rebel  batteries. 
The  Red  River  above  Alexandria  is  a  twisty  stream  and 
the  channel,  difficult  at  best  to  find  without  a  pilot,  is  at 
certain  stages  of  the  water  rendered  the  more  difficult  by 
rapids  and  adjoining  shallows.  At  any  points  where  the 
vessels  were  delayed  in  sounding  for  the  channel,  they  had 
to  incur  the  risk  of  a  fusillade  from  the  banks.  The 
sharpshooters  naturally  made  a  special  aim  of  the  poor 
chaps  in  the  wheel-house.  If  a  pilot  could  be  killed  or 
disabled,  the  vessel  was  likely  to  swing  across  the  stream 
onto  the  shoals  and  could  then  be  attacked  at  leisure. 
One  of  the  Rebel  assaults  deserves  mention  on  account 
of  its  exceptional  character.  It  is  not  often  that  the 
capture  of  a  fleet  is  undertaken  by  cavalry,  but  this 
attempt  was  made  under  the  leadership  of  General  Green 
with  a  couple  of  troops  of  Texan  horse. 

At  the  point  selected,  the  river  widened  out  over  a 


1864]         Our  Fleet  Attacked  by  Cavalry         307 

considerable  expanse  of  shallows  with  a  twisty  channel 
winding  its  way  through  the  centre.  The  leading  boat 
of  the  fleet  was  feeling  its  way  along  the  channel,  the  men 
taking  soundings  as  they  went.  It  was  necessary  in 
order  to  keep  the  boat  from  grounding,  first  to  the  east 
and  then  to  the  west,  to  use  long  fending  poles,  and  the 
men  working  at  the  fenders  and  the  two  pilots  in  the 
wheel-house  were  equally  exposed  to  fire.  Some  success 
ful  shooting  from  the  bank  disabled  both  the  men  at  the 
wheel.  The  vessel  swung  around  to  the  stream,  grounding 
stem  and  stern.  Attempts  to  pry  her  off  with  the  fenders 
proved  unsuccessful  partly  on  account  of  the  Rebel  fire. 
Green  then  took  his  horsemen  out  into  the  stream,  the 
water  in  the  shallows  of  which  was  about  up  to  the  should 
ers  of  the  horses.  He  succeeded  in  leading  his  men  close 
to  the  edge  of  the  grounded  steamer,  whose  decks  had  been 
kept  clear  by  the  cavalry  carbines  as  well  as  by  the  sharp- 
shooting  from  the  bank,  and  for  a  moment  it  looked  as  if 
the  Rebels  would  be  able,  if  not  exactly  to  ride  on  board, 
to  pull  themselves  onto  the  deck  and  get  control  of  the 
vessel.  If  this  attempt  had  been  successful,  the  vessel 
would  have  been  sunk  across  the  channel.  The  ten 
larger  gunboats  would  then  have  had  very  great  difficulty 
in  clearing  the  channel  and  in  making  their  way  down 
stream,  and  they  might,  in  fact,  have  found  the  task 
impossible. 

Our  gunners  finally  succeeded  from  below  decks  in 
bringing  to  bear  a  couple  of  short  pieces  loaded  with 
shrapnel,  and  one  of  their  volleys  took  effect  at  almost 
point-blank  range  in  the  leading  group  of  the  Rebel  cavalry, 
killing  General  Green.  This  discouraged  the  others  and 
they  made  their  way  back  to  the  shore.  The  wheel  was 
again  manned  and  the  fenders  or  stilts  were  put  into 
action.  Notwithstanding  the  continued  sharp  fire  from 
the  shore,  a  fire  which  succeeded  in  putting  out  of  action 


308  The  Army  in  Retreat  [1864 

from  time  to  time  the  men  on  the  deck,  they  succeeded 
in  getting  her  again  into  the  stream  and  in  bringing  her 
past  the  point  from  which  the  Rebel  firing  was  most 
serious.  They  might  not  have  accomplished  this  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  prompt  return  of  a  portion  of  A.  J. 
Smith's  troops  who  were  acting  as  rear-guard  and  who  on 
hearing  the  fire  hurried  back  up  stream.  Smith's  men 
succeeded  in  cutting  off  some  of  the  cavalry  and  brought 
them  in,  horses  and  all,  to  Alexandria.  They  also  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  hold  of  two  of  the  guns  that  had  been  in 
use,  guns  which  had  formerly  belonged  to  what  was  known 
as  the  Chicago  Mercantile  Battery.  We  found  these 
pieces  of  service  later  as  we  made  our  way  down  the 
river.  The  larger  gunboats  came  through  with  less 
difficulty.  The  fire  from  their  decks  was  searching  and 
made  the  banks  of  the  river  an  uncomfortable  abiding 
place.  The  eleven  vessels  were  finally  gathered  together 
in  the  basin  above  the  rapids  at  Alexandria  and  within 
the  town  were  mustered  the  battalions  of  the  retreating 
army. 

The  men  were  equally  discouraged  and  disgusted. 
They  could  see  no  reason  why,  in  spite  of  the  check  at 
Sabine  Cross  Roads,  they  could  not  have  gone  on  to 
Shreveport.  They  felt  the  mortification  of  retreating 
before  a  smaller  force.  We  of  the  rank  and  file  had  of 
course  at  the  time  no  knowledge  of  the  imperative  orders 
of  General  Grant  which  made  it  impossible  for  Banks  to 
continue  his  advance.  Banks  was  a  pretty  poor  com 
mander,  but  it  appears  from  later  history  that  he  did  not 
deserve  quite  all  the  damning  that  we  gave  him.  There 
was  a  feeling  of  irritation  on  the  part  of  the  troops  who 
were  returning  discomfited  and  tired  out  to  Alexandria, 
in  learning  that  we  were  no  longer  in  connection  with  New 
Orleans.  This  meant,  of  course,  stoppage  of  mails  and,  as 
previously  explained,  a  stoppage  of  supplies  of  all  kinds. 


1864]  The  Army  Retreats  309 

Grover  had  done  what  was  practicable  to  economise  with 
rations  and  with  fodder,  but  with  the  full  army  now  to  be 
provided  for,  it  appeared  that  we  had  available  on  the  half- 
ration  basis  supplies  for  no  longer  than  about  three  weeks. 
The  matter  was  complicated  by  the  continued  necessity 
of  taking  care  of  the  women  and  children  in  the  town. 
Taylor's  force,  while  undoubtedly  smaller  than  that  which 
Banks  had  available,  was  quite  large  enough  to  keep  our 
picket  lines  occupied  and  to  make  it  difficult  for  the  troops 
to  do  any  effective  foraging  in  the  country  about.  Such 
foraging  would,  however,  have  been  attempted  if  there 
had  been  any  supplies  within  reach,  but  the  country,  at 
best  but  poor,  had  been  thoroughly  ransacked. 

The  immediate  problem  that  Banks  had  before  him  was 
the  getting  the  army  back  to  the  Mississippi  with  all  possi 
ble  promptness,  a  promptness  necessitated  not  only  because 
of  the  limited  supplies  of  rations,  but  for  the  purpose  of 
obeying  as  far  as  practicable  the  original  instructions  of 
General  Grant  for  the  return  of  A.  J.  Smith's  troops. 

The  road  back  to  the  Mississippi  led  for  the  greater 
portion  of  the  distance  immediately  along  the  river  bank. 
In  this  Red  River  district,  as  elsewhere  in  southern  Louisi 
ana,  the  dry  ground  was  to  be  found  immediately  along 
the  watercourses,  and  the  swamp  basins  deepened  in 
proportion  to  the  distance  from  the  rivers  or  bayous. 
Taylor  had  utilised  to  good  advantage  the  time  required 
for  the  consolidation  of  Banks' s  retreating  troops  at  Alex 
andria,  to  put  up  lines  of  works  across  the  road  and  at 
right  angles  to  the  river.  Unless  these  works  could  be 
outflanked  by  fire  from  the  river,  it  would  have  been 
necessary  for  the  troops  to  take  the  greater  part  of  them 
by  direct  assault.  The  army  would  doubtless  have  made 
its  way  back  to  the  Mississippi,  but  if  it  had  been  necessary 
to  assault  earthworks  from  point  to  point  on  the  way 
down  we  should  certainly  have  arrived  in  an  attenuated 


310  Mud  and  Dust  [1864 

and  unsatisfactory  condition.  The  distance  from  Alex 
andria  to  the  Mississippi  was  about  120  miles.  The  sea 
son  was  now  well  advanced  towards  summer  (my  own 
brigade  left  Alexandria  on  the  I2th  of  May)  and  the 
temperature  was  high,  averaging  perhaps  ninety  in  the 
shade  and  a  hundred  and  anything  in  the  sun. 

The  soil,  which  through  the  rainy  season  march  had 
been  a  fine  mud,  drying  out  under  the  action  of  the  sun, 
had  become  a  red  dust  so  very  fine  that  it  made  its  way 
into  the  eyes,  nostrils,  ears,  mouths,  and  the  pores  of  the 
skin,  and  in  thus  choking  up  the  system,  exercised  a  very 
exhausting  influence  on  the  physique  of  the  men  through 
a  long  day's  march.  The  march  was  therefore  attended 
with  difficulties  and  these  difficulties  would  have  been 
very  seriously  increased  if  it  had  not  been  possible  to 
retain  the  co-operation  of  the  fleet.  During  the  retreat 
from  Sabine's  Cross  Roads,  the  river,  in  place  of  rising, 
as  was  customary  at  this  season  of  the  year,  had  fallen 
rapidly.  There  was  not  water  enough  on  the  rapids  just 
above  Alexandria  to  enable  the  vessels  to  get  over.  The 
problem  was  to  raise  the  water  at  the  shallowest  point  of 
the  rapids  from  six  to  seven  feet,  backing  it  up  so  as  to 
float  the  gunboats  over  what  was  called  the  upper  fall. 
The  difficulty  of  constructing  a  dam  was  increased  by  the 
fact  that  there  was  no  stone.in  the  country. 

A  plan  for  such  dam  or  dams  was  submitted  by  Lieuten 
ant-Colonel  Joseph  Bailey  of  the  4th  Wisconsin  regiment, 
who  had  before  the  war  been  working  as  a  civil  engineer. 
Colonel  Bailey  was  at  that  time  serving  on  General  Frank 
lin's  staff.  In  the  month  that  had  elapsed  since  the  fleet 
had  ascended  the  rapids,  the  river  had  fallen  more  than 
six  feet.  In  the  channels  through  the  rapid  there  were  at 
this  date  but  three  feet  four  inches  of  water,  while  the 
largest  of  the  gunboats  needed  nearly  seven  feet.  The 
current  was  swift,  running  from  six  to  seven  miles  an  hour, 


1864]  Bailey's  Dams  311 

and  the  total  fall  of  the  average  rapids  was  thirteen  feet. 
The  river  was  about  eight  hundred  feet  wide.  Colonel 
Bailey  was  given  by  Banks  full  control  of  the  men  to  be 
detailed  and  over  the  materials  available.  Under  his 
instructions,  the  troops  were  first  employed  (working  in 
four-hour  details)  in  pulling  down  the  sugar-mills,  the  iron 
and  bricks  from  which  were  to  be  utilised  for  the  dams. 
While  this  work  was  going  on,  other  details  were  getting 
trees  out  of  the  forest  for  use  in  the  cribs.  These  cribs 
were  constructed  like  four  sides  of  a  small  log  house,  the 
logs  being  pinned  together  by  wooden  pegs.  In  the  work 
of  tree-cutting  and  log-pinning,  the  experience  of  the 
troops  from  the  North-west  was  of  course  particularly 
valuable. 

The  suitable  trees  had  to  be  secured  for  the  most  part 
from  the  bank  opposite  Alexandria  and  the  wood-chopping 
was  interfered  with  from  time  to  time  by  the  Rebel  skir 
mishers.  At  the  beginning  of  this  work,  the  troops  took 
turns  in  the  chopping  and  in  protecting  themselves  from 
the  skirmishers.  When,  however,  the  Western  men 
saw  the  clumsiness  with  which  the  New  Yorkers  handled 
their  axes,  they  suggested  that  we  had  best  take  care  of 
the  skirmishing  line  and  of  the  bringing  up  of  the  bricks 
and  the  ironwork  and  that  they  would  attend  to  the  wood- 
chopping.  It  was  interesting  to  see  the  precision  with 
which  this  chopping  was  done  even  at  times  when  the 
choppers  were  actually  themselves  under  fire. 

The  wooden  cribs  were  sunk  into  the  places  selected  in 
the  stream  by  the  aid  of  bundles  of  broken  ironwork 
attached  to  the  four  corners  and  when  so  sunk  they  were 
filled  up  with  the  brick.  The  bottom  of  the  river  was 
soapstone  and  it  required  a  thorough  wedging  of  the  cribs 
in  order  to  hold  them  in  their  places.  Much  of  the  work 
of  filling  the  cribs  had  to  be  done  by  men  standing  in  the 
water.  Bailey  himself  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  some- 


312  Bailey's  Dams  [1864 

thing  over  six  feet  tall.  I  recall  the  genial  manner  in 
which  on  one  day  at  least  he  ordered  the  detail  of  my  own 
battalion  into  the  water.  "It's  all  right,  men,"  he  said, 
"it's  only  up  to  your  waists."  This  was  all  very  well 
for  the  six-footers  but  the  small  Adjutant,  whose  business 
it  was  to  lead  his  men  in,  found  the  waist  mark  of  Bailey 
pretty  well  up  to  his  own  shoulders  and  there  was  no  little 
difficulty  in  maintaining  footing  against  the  fierce  current. 
It  would  have  been  in  order  to  suggest  that  the  smaller 
men  at  least  ought  not  to  be  immersed  below  the  "  Plimsoll 
mark,"  but  the  Plimsoll  system  was  not  invented  until 
some  years  later.  In  the  course  of  the  work,  men  were 
swept  off  their  feet  from  time  to  time.  Most  of  the  sol 
diers  knew  how  to  swim  and  after  a  ducking  through  the 
falls  would  come  up  in  safety  in  the  quiet  water  below. 
But  there  was  an  occasional  loss  of  life  through  drowning. 

The  purpose  of  the  dams  was  to  throw  the  water  into 
a  funnel  the  narrowest  portion  of  which  should  be  at  the 
shallowest  point  of  the  rapids. 

For  this  purpose,  the  dams  were  constructed  in  pairs, 
the  longest  pair  with  the  narrowest  passageway  between 
being  close  up  to  the  rapids  and  the  shortest  pairs  or 
wing  dams  extending  farther  up  the  river.  Through  the 
passageway  at  the  lowest  dam  the  water  rushed  at  an 
incline  like  that  of  a  waterfall.  It  was  difficult  to  under 
stand  how  vessels,  having  at  Ihis  point  no  steerage  way, 
could  be  brought  over  in  safety. 

The  river  current  twists  sharply  just  below  the  fall  and 
there  was  the  risk  that  the  vessel  accomplishing  the  fall 
in  safety  might  drive  in  to  the  bank  below.  To  lessen 
this  difficulty,  a  couple  of  pair  of  barges  were  attached 
to  the  two  ends  of  the  dam  and  anchored  at  the  down 
stream  ends  at  such  an  angle  that  the  vessel  passing  over 
the  fall  was  bumped  back  into  the  line  of  the  stream.  The 
building  of  the  dams  occupied  about  a  fortnight.  The 


The  Rebels  Block  the  Road  313 

total  increase  in  the  depth  at  the  most  difficult  point  was 
four  feet  six  inches.  During  the  last  four  or  five  days 
work  had  gone  on  without  intermission  night  and  day. 
The  men  engaged  in  this  work  had  looked  forward  with 
not  a  little  interest  to  the  opportunity  of  seeing  the  vessels 
come  over  the  falls,  a  spectacle  that  must  have  been 
dramatic  in  itself  apart  from  its  engineering  and  military 
importance.  My  own  brigade,  which  had  done  its  full 
share  of  work  in  the  construction  of  the  dam,  was,  how 
ever,  deprived  of  witnessing  the  culmination  of  the  under 
taking.  The  day  before  the  time  fixed  for  the  passage 
of  the  rapids,  we  were  ordered  down  stream  to  "feel  the 
enemy"  and  to  report  at  what  point  the  first  opposition 
was  to  be  encountered.  We  marched  a  distance  of  about 
six  miles,  at  which  point  we  struck  the  first  line  of  earth 
works.  The  works  were  built  straight  across  the  road, 
the  Rebel  right  resting  on  the  river  and  the  left  being 
protected  by  the  swamp.  We  "felt"  the  opposing  force 
so  as  to  draw  its  fire  and  to  ascertain  that  the  works  were 
fully  manned.  Having  no  instructions  to  force  a  passage 
at  this  time,  we  sent  back  our  report  and  waited.  We 
thought  that  we  might  possibly  have  occasion  to  meet 
an  attack  of  the  Rebels,  but  they  like  ourselves  were 
awaiting  with  interest  the  test  of  the  engineering  works. 
At  noon  on  the  Qth  of  May,  we  could  see  from  our  river 
point  looking  up  stream  (the  intervening  forest  cut  us  off 
from  any  direct  view  of  the  town)  the  columns  of  smoke 
going  up  over  the  tree  tops,  indicating  that  some  of  the 
boats  were  getting  up  their  steam.  The  smallest  pair  of 
these  smoke  columns  moved  slowly  out  downwards 
towards  us  and  we  realised  that  the  little  Lexington  was 
preparing  for  the  plunge.  The  smoke  columns  advanced 
with  increasing  speed,  hesitated  for  a  moment,  came  down 
at  a  sharp  angle  and  then,  still  upright,  moved  off  with  the 
current  to  the  right.  We  realised  that  one  boat  doubtless 


314  The  Vessels  Pass  the  Rapids  [1864 

had  come  over  in  safety.  The  Lexington  was  followed,  as 
we  afterwards  learned,  by  the  three  boats  next  in  size,  the 
Osage,  the  Neosho,  and  the  Fort  Hindman.  We  could 
trace  by  the  smoke  the  advance  and  the  passing  of  the 
boats  without  of  course  at  the  moment  identifying  their 
names.  The  larger  gunboats  were  obliged  to  wait  for 
three  days  longer  until  a  few  inches  more  depth  could  be 
secured. 

I  heard  later  that  for  the  biggest  of  the  series  there  was, 
after  the  final  work,  still  insufficient  water,  and  that  her 
commander  succeeded  in  bringing  her  over  only  after 
lightening  her  draft  by  taking  off  the  two  rows  of  the  iron 
plates.  The  unriveting  of  these  plates  was  done  during 
the  night  and  the  plates  themselves  were  quietly  dropped 
to  the  bottom  of  the  stream.  The  strip  where  the  plates 
had  been  was  hurriedly  painted  with  an  imitation  of  the 
rusty  black  of  the  hull  and  with  the  marks  of  the  rivets. 
From  the  shore  our  big  gunboat  looked  as  if  she  were 
still  protected  and  fortunately  for  us  she  gave  this  impres 
sion  also  to  the  Rebels  who  were  occupying  the  river  earth 
works  and  these  earthworks  were  promptly  abandoned  at 
her  approach.  I  suppose  that  if  her  actual  condition  had 
been  known  she  would  have  been  obliged  to  run  the  gaunt 
let  on  her  way  down  the  river  of  a  pretty  severe  bombard 
ing  and  might  very  possibly  have  been  destroyed.  We  in 
the  advance  brigade,  with  of  course  no  knowledge  of  this 
little  detail,  felt  that  the  matter  had  been  decided  when 
the  first  pair  of  smoke  columns  made  its  successful  plunge, 
and  we  sent  up  a  yell  of  encouragement  for  ourselves  and 
of  defiance  for  the  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  works. 

Our  opponents  also  felt  that  the  plunge  of  the  smoke 
stacks,  which  were  of  course  as  visible  to  them  as  to  us, 
meant  business.  They  promptly  got  out  of  their  works, 
falling  back  down  the  river  road,  and  we,  with  a  great 
feeling  of  satisfaction  that  our  approach  did  not  have 


1864]  The  Blocking  of  the  River  315 

to  be  made  under  fire,  tumbled  over  their  trenches 
and  took  possession  of  their  camp.  As  the  Rebs  had 
retired  in  good  order  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  they 
had  left  behind  them  property  or  impedimenta  of  any 
value.  They  had  in  fact  even  succeeded  in  dragging 
away  safely  certain  field-pieces  which  had  been  mounted 
on  the  earthworks  and  which  would  have  helped  to 
make  our  crossing  of  those  works  a  matter  of  difficulty. 
We  did  find  however  in  one  portion  of  the  camp  material 
which  interested  us  very  keenly,  while  our  interest  was 
mixed  with  no  little  sense  of  aggravation.  The  temporary 
control  of  the  lower  regions  of  the  river  and  the  blocking 
of  communication  between  Banks's  army  and  New  Orleans 
had  enabled  this  energetic  advance  division  of  Taylor's 
army  to  capture  certain  transports  and  convoy  boats 
which  had  started  on  their  way  up  from  the  Mississippi 
before  information  had  reached  the  Mississippi  posts  that 
the  lower  Red  River  was  blocked.  With  certain  of  these 
boats  Taylor's  army  had  secured  some  very  valuable 
supplies  of  provisions  and  ammunition.  Their  captures 
had  also  included  the  greater  portion  of  two  battalions 
which  were  returning  to  the  front  after  a  leave  of  absence 
of  ninety  days,  an  absence  secured  in  connection  with 
their  re-enlistment  for  the  war.  A  few  of  the  more 
enterprising  of  the  officers  and  soldiers  from  these  bat 
talions  had  made  their  escape  after  the  transports  had 
grounded  (the  men  in  the  wheel-houses  having  been  shot) 
and  under  sharp  fire  from  the  eastern  bank  had  made 
their  way  by  wading  or  swimming  to  the  forests  on  the 
western  bank  and  in  straggling  marches  had,  with  a  few 
exceptions,  reached  the  army  lines  at  Alexandria.  The 
exceptions  were  either  lost  and  starved  in  the  forest  or 
picked  up  by  the  Rebel  pickets. 

One  of  the  boats  captured  in  this  fashion  had  brought 
with  it  an  accumulation  of  mail  matter.     The  mail  had 


316  The  Captured  Mail  [1864 

evidently  been  hastily  examined  and  the  official  docu 
ments,  orders,  etc.,  had  been  extracted.  The  private 
letters,  of  which  there  were  some  thousands,  had  for  the 
most  part  been  torn  across  the  middle  and  then  thrown  in 
one  pile  in  a  corner  of  the  camp.  It  was  this  pile  of  torn 
envelopes  that  first  caught  our  attention  as  we  clambered 
over  the  entrenchments.  We  sifted  them  as  carefully  as 
possible,  naturally  in  the  hopes  of  finding  missives  belong 
ing  to  our  own  brigade,  and  later,  with  a  little  more  altru 
ism,  placing  to  one  side  the  letters  that  could  still  be 
identified  as  belonging  to  men  of  other  commands.  I  was 
busied  myself  with  this  sifting  process  when  I  came  across 
the  two  halves  of  a  longish  envelope  which  had  been 
torn  across  but  partly  and  which  still  held  together,  and  the 
name  on  which  was  very  clearly  my  own.  The  envelope 
contained  a  pair  of  adjutant's  shoulder  straps  together 
with  a  wreath.  If  there  had  also  been  a  letter  this  had 
been  abstracted  or  lost.  The  straps  and  wreath  were 
naturally  very  welcome.  While  some  months  had  passed 
since  my  promotion  to  staff  rank,  I  had  not  been  within 
reach  of  any  army  stores  where  I  could  supply  myself  with 
any  proper  insignia.  I  was  naturally  curious  to  ascertain 
what  kind  friend  from  the  North  (the  mailing  stamp  on  the 
envelope  had  been  dampened  and  was  effaced)  had  been 
so  watchful  of  my  promotion  and  of  my  interests,  but  this 
knowledge  never  came  to  me. 

Two  or  three  days  later,  the  advance  guard  of  the 
retreating  army  came  down  the  river  accompanied  by  the 
leading  vessels  of  the  rescued  fleet.  Our  brigade,  that 
had  been  in  the  advance,  was  for  the  first  day's  march 
ordered  to  hold  the  rear  of  the  column  and  we  waited 
therefore  until  the  entire  army  had  passed.  I  was  told  by 
the  adjutant  of  the  brigade  which  had  been  the  last  to 
march  out  of  Alexandria  that  as  the  troops  came  clear  of 
the  last  houses  of  the  town  flames  broke  out  in  a  quarter 


1864]          The  Work  of  the  Rear-Guard  317 

some  thousand  yards  or  so  distant.  The  colonel  com 
manding  the  brigade  was  unwilling,  for  his  own  repute 
as  well  as  for  that  of  Banks' s  army,  that  our  troops  should 
be  exposed  to  the  charge  of  having  set  the  town  on  fire 
in  leaving  it.  The  flames  had  probably  been  kindled  by 
darkey  stragglers  on  the  lookout  for  plunder.  The  brigade 
was  marched  back  and  did  active  service  in  putting  out  the 
fire,  which  was  confined  to  one  or  two  small  houses.  It 
then  caught  up  with  the  main  column  but  in  so  doing 
had  a  sharp  little  skirmish  with  the  advance  lines  of  the 
Rebels  that  were  making  their  way  through  the  woods  on 
either  side  of  the  road. 

The  incident  is  noteworthy  as  marking  an  important 
distinction  in  the  fighting  conditions  of  our  Civil  War  as 
compared  with  the  usual  routine  even  of  civilised  modern 
warfare.  It  is  not  likely  that  German  troops  in  France  or 
French  troops  in  Germany  would  have  been  permitted  to 
delay  so  important  an  operation  as  a  retreat  for  the  pur 
pose  of  saving  houses  and  property  in  an  enemy's  country. 
Our  commanders  in  Louisiana  and  elsewhere  were  labour 
ing  under  the  difficulty  that  the  country  was  not  strictly 
to  be  classed  as  "foreign"  or  as  belonging  to  the  enemy. 
We  were  fighting  under  the  theory  that  we  were  suppress 
ing  insurrection  within  the  territory  of  the  United  States. 
This  theory  (quite  necessary  under  the  special  conditions 
of  our  war)  hampered  not  a  little  the  planning  of  cam 
paigns  and  the  execution  of  military  movements.  Not 
a  few  of  the  operations  in  strategy  or  in  tactics  which  were, 
on  strictly  military  grounds,  open  to  criticism  from  foreign 
critics,  were  due  to  so-called  political  necessities  or  to 
considerations  of  friendly  interest  in  the  population, 
considerations  which  to  these  foreign  critics  would  natu 
rally  be  entirely  inexplicable. 

Before  leaving  the  record  of  our  sojourn  in  Alexandria, 
I  should  recall  one  incident  that  I  forgot  to  note  in  its 


318  Work  in  the  Trenches  [1864 

proper  chronological  order.  Some  days  before  the  return 
to  Alexandria  of  the  main  body  of  the  army,  the  brigade 
that  was  holding  the  town  was  exposed  to  sharp  attacks 
on  its  picket  lines  and  to  repeated  alarms  in  the  later  hours 
of  the  night  or  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning.  It  is 
probable  that  these  attacks  were  made  by  a  comparatively 
small  force  merely  for  the  purpose  of  tiring  us  out  in 
advance  of  the  operations  that  were  still  to  be  completed. 
There  was  however  the  risk  that  our  lines  might  be  pierced 
by  a  larger  force  and  that  Alexandria  might  be  taken 
possession  of  in  advance  of  the  arrival  of  Banks's  army. 
Such  a  capture  would  have  been  for  Banks  (particularly  in 
advance  of  the  possibility  of  utilising  the  guns  of  the  fleet) 
a  very  serious  disaster.  Our  commanders  gave  orders 
therefore  for  the  construction  of  some  heavier  lines  of 
trenches.  Our  force  was  only  just  large  enough  to  hold 
the  picket  line  with  the  usual  reliefs  and  the  task  of  doing 
digging  in  between  these  duty-hours,  with  a  temperature 
that  in  the  sunshine  was  a  hundred  and  anything,  was 
rather  a  serious  additional  burden.  The  troops  tackled 
the  job  as  best  they  could.  Each  battalion  was  given  a 
certain  section  of  the  works  to  complete,  these  works 
comprising  a  deep  ditch  on  the  outer  side  with  a  sub 
stantial  bank  on  the  inner.  Our  own  regiment  was  at 
this  time  rather  smaller  than:  the  average  and  was  also 
reduced  in  numbers  on  account  of  invalid  absentees. 
I  found  that  our  piece  of  the  works  was  lagging  and  that 
we  should  not  have  it  completed  by  the  date  fixed.  I 
suggested  to  the  Major  that  it  would  probably  encourage 
the  men  if  we  should  put  the  officers  into  the  ditches  with 
them,  while  there  would  be  a  direct  advantage  in  the 
addition  of  some  twenty  pairs  of  fresh  arms  wielding  the 
picks  and  the  spades.  "That's  all  right,  Adjutant,"  said 
the  Major,  "I  will  give  the  order  at  once  and  will  myself 
lead  the  party."  The  order  was  therefore  worded  that 


i364]  The  Retreat 

the  commanding  officer  of  the  battalion  with  his  staff  and 
the  company  officers  should  report  for  duty  with  picks  and 
spades  and  should  take  their  turn  in  subsequent  details 
until  the  line  was  completed.  The  preliminary  growling 
on  the  part  of  the  captains  and  lieutenants  was  checked 
when  the  Major  himself  came  out  with  a  pickaxe.  The 
Adjutant  was  of  course  obliged  to  follow.  We  divided  the 
officers  into  two  columns,  which  had  some  little  compe 
tition  between  themselves  as  to  the  amount  of  work  done. 
The  men  in  the  trenches  gave  a  cheer  of  satisfaction  and 
the  result  of  the  suggestion  was  that  we  brought  our  line 
to  completion  an  hour  or  so  before  that  of  the  I3th  Con 
necticut  with  which  we  were  to  connect. 

The  road  back  to  the  Mississippi  led,  as  has  been  said, 
for  the  most  part  along  the  banks  of  the  Red  River.  We 
crossed  at  successive  bends  the  entrenchments  that 
Taylor's  advance  guard  had  put  up,  entrenchments 
so  placed  as  to  cut  off  the  road  on  the  one  hand  and  to 
command  with  field-pieces  the  channel  of  the  river  on 
the  other.  At  these  points  there  was  now  no  fighting  to  be 
anticipated,  as  the  guns  of  the  fleet  made  a  comfortable 
protection  for  the  left  flank  of  the  column  as  we  marched. 

At  certain  portions  of  the  route,  however,  the  road 
diverged  inland  and  at  these  points  we  had  a  little 
fighting.  I  remember  one  typical  skirmish  in  which  my 
own  battalion  was  engaged  on  one  of  the  days  when  we 
were  acting  with  the  rear-guard.  It  was  the  usual  routine 
that  the  brigades  took  turns  in  leading  the  column  and  in 
protecting  the  rear.  We  had  been  ordered  to  start  be 
fore  daybreak,  partly  for  the  purpose  of  making  headway 
and  partly  because  notwithstanding  the  disadvantage  of 
sleepiness  the  troops  made  better  time  before  the  rays  of 
the  sun  became  fierce.  As  day  broke,  the  men  were 
plunging  along  through  the  red  dust,  sleepy,  hungry,  and 
cross.  There  was  some  gap  between  us  and  the  brigade  in 


320  Very  Fresh  Pork  [1864 

advance,  a  gap  which  was  not  sufficient  however  to  pre 
vent  the  dust  which  had  been  kicked  up  by  our  predecessors 
from  remaining  to  harass  us.  A  group  of  little  pigs,  who 
if  they  had  stayed  in  the  woods  would  have  been  quite 
safe  from  any  Yankee  assaults  (we  had  no  time  for  game 
hunting) ,  started  with  a  piggish  perverseness  to  run  across 
the  road  in  front  of  our  files.  The  greater  number  of  the 
pigs  found  themselves  spitted  on  the  points  of  bayonets 
before  they  could  again  reach  the  safety  of  the  woods. 
We  were  under  strict  orders  not  to  halt,  but  the  men  were 
so  hungry  that  they  got  out  of  hand,  and  in  spite  of  the 
remonstrances  of  the  officers,  they  persisted  in  delaying 
long  enough  to  start  some  brush- wood  fires  for  the  purpose 
of  cooking  the  chunks  hastily  carved  out  of  the  pigs. 
Before  the  chunks  of  pork  had  been  much  more  than 
smoked  in  the  brush-wood  blaze,  there  came  a  scattering 
fire  on  flank  and  rear  and  we  had  to  tumble  forward  as 
best  we  could  in  order  to  make  connection  with  the  troops 
in  front  before  we  should  be  outflanked  and  cut  off.  The 
men  were  still  carrying  on  the  points  of  their  bayonets 
the  smoked  and  charred  chunks  of  pork.  A  piece  was 
given  to  me  by  my  orderly  and  it  was,  according  to  my 
memory,  so  fresh  that  I  could  almost  taste  the  squeak. 

We  had  to  face  around  at  least  once  to  make  a  replying 
volley  to  the  advancing  Rebs,,  and  then  on  the  double- 
quick  we  rushed  around  a  curve  of  the  road  and  were 
well  pleased  to  find  a  column  of  Michiganders  waiting  to 
help  us.  In  accordance  with  the  word  given  to  us  by  the 
Michigan  commander,  we  passed  through  their  double 
column  drawn  up  on  either  side  of  the  road  with  the  idea 
that  they  would  close  in  behind  us  and  give  us  a  breathing 
spell.  As  we  reached  the  lower  edge  of  the  road  curve  we 
turned  to  look  back  and  our  Western  friends  had  dis 
appeared.  We  saw  in  a  moment  what  had  happened :  the 
road  at  this  point  formed  a  gully  and  the  steep  road-sides 


1864]  A  Rear-Guard  Fight  321 

were  covered  with  a  fairly  thick  undergrowth.  The 
Michigan  men  had  pulled  themselves  up  on  either  side 
of  the  road  into  this  scrub  growth  and  were  waiting  for 
the  Rebs.  Around  the  curve  in  a  few  minutes  came  the 
advance  of  the  Butternut  skirmishers,  who  must  have  been 
rather  surprised  to  find  the  roadway  apparently  clear.  A 
second  later  and  they  were  met  with  a  plunging  fire  from 
either  side  of  this  "clear"  road.  This  unexpected  double 
volley  so  far  discouraged  them  that  they  fell  back  hur 
riedly,  leaving  on  the  roadbed  quite  a  group  of  dead  and 
wounded.  Under  the  circumstances  it  was  of  course 
impossible  to  delay  to  help  these  poor  chaps,  but,  leaving 
them  to  be  cared  for  by  their  friends,  we  pressed  forward 
to  take  advantage  of  the  breathing  space.  Our  grati 
tude  to  our  Michigan  friends  took  the  shape  of  dividing 
with  them  some  portion  of  the  "squeaky"  pork  that  still 
remained. 

There  were  two  or  three  fights  of  some  moment  in  which 
different  portions  of  the  army  were  engaged  on  the  road 
back,  before  we  reached  the  Mississippi,  but  my  own 
battalion  was  concerned  with  but  one  of  these.  The 
place  was  called  Mansura.  I  have  a  memory  of  a  small 
village  centred  about  a  sugar  plantation,  and  stretching 
eastward  and  southward  from  this  village  of  a  series  of 
sugar-cane  fields  which  were  at  that  time  covered  not  with 
growing  cane  but  with  the  stiff  stubble.  Beyond  the 
field,  was  a  narrow  bayou  which  had  to  be  crossed  and 
which  we  were  particularly  desirous  of  reaching  as  at  the 
time  the  fight  opened  we  had  had  no  water  since  the 
previous  evening.  The  "Rebs"  had  taken  possession  of 
the  line  of  the  bayou  and  of  some  covering  woodland 
beyond  the  bayou.  They  were  peppering  at  us  with  a 
fairly  effective  line  of  field-guns,  guns  that  included  certain 
pieces  captured  from  ourselves  a  few  weeks  before  at 
Sabine  Cross  Roads. 


322  The  Fight  at  Mansura  [1864 

As  the  troops  came  within  range  of  fire  of  the  enemy's 
batteries,  the  mounted  officers  (including  according  to  the 
usual  routine  the  field  and  the  staff)  were  ordered  to  dis 
mount  and  their  horses  were  left  in  the  rear  with  the 
orderlies,  who  were  instructed  to  keep  up  with  the  advance 
at  a  proper  distance  of  safety.  The  ''safety"  in  question 
was  not  that  of  the  orderlies  but  that  of  the  horses,  as 
horses  were  becoming  very  scarce  and  when  killed  or 
disabled  could  be  replaced  only  with  great  difficulty.  I 
had  lost  in  one  way  or  another  two  or  three  horses  and  had 
finally  been  reduced  (it  would  be  technically  more  correct 
to  say  "elevated ")  to  the  back  of  a  big  gaunt  yellow  mule. 
It  was  difficult  to  say  on  which  side  of  the  lines  this  mule 
had  originated  as  he  carried  branded  on  his  flanks  the 
two  sets  of  initials,  C.  S.  A.  and  U.  S.  A.  He  had  strayed 
into  our  lines  from  the  swamp  and  had  promptly  been 
taken  possession  of  for  the  use  of  field  and  staff  and 
assigned  to  the  Adjutant.  I  do  not  know  how  I  should 
have  gotten  through  with  the  long  march  to  the  Missis 
sippi  without  the  mule's  services.  He  was  patient  with 
next  to  nothing  as  far  as  fodder  was  concerned  and  could 
go  very  much  longer  without  water  than  could  the  horses. 
He  also  stood  better  than  the  horses  the  choking  influence 
of  the  red  dust  in  the  nostrils. 

The  march  would  begin  at  daybreak  with  the  Adjutant 
properly  placed  in  his  own  saddle,  carrying  with  him,  in 
addition  to  regimental  archives,  certain  of  the  more  pre 
cious  of  the  headquarters  baggage.  As  the  day  wore 
on,  other  impedimenta  would  be  added  to  the  load.  The 
headquarters  cook  would  drop  out  exhausted,  and  rather 
than  to  lose  the  invaluable  coffee-pot  and  frying-pan, 
means  would  be  found  for  fastening  these  to  the  Adjutant's 
saddle.  Then  some  soldier  would  report  that  he  could 
carry  himself  but  not  his  musket,  and  rather  than  to 
abandon  the  musket  to  the  Confederates,  this  would  be 


1864]  The  Fight  at  Mansura  323 

fastened  to  the  mule.  Then  the  drummer  boy  would 
report  that  he  was  played  out  and  the  drum  would  be 
hoisted  up.  When  the  drum  was  followed  a  little  later 
by  the  boy  himself,  the  Adjutant  would  get  down.  The 
mule  as  he  came  in  at  night  to  the  bivouac  presented 
the  appearance  of  an  overloaded  caravansary. 

Just  before  the  order  to  dismount,  we  came  under 
rather  a  sharp  volley  from  the  opposing  batteries.  One  or 
two  round  shot  came  bounding  and  ricochetting  across 
the  cane  furrows  and  I  was  amused  to  see  the  cleverness 
with  which  the  mule  jumped  over  one  of  these  curving 
shot  which  if  it  had  not  been  dodged  would  have  broken 
or  carried  away  one  of  his  front  legs.  One  of  the  new 
recruits  in  the  second  line,  who  had  not  before  been  under 
fire,  got  the  stupid  impression  that  the  round  shot  was  not 
coming  very  rapidly.  He  started  to  stop  it  as  he  would 
have  stopped  a  football,  with  the  natural  result  of  a 
broken  leg.  A  little  later,  as  I  was  lying  face  downward 
on  the  stubble  on  the  left  of  the  battalion  line,  I  had  occa 
sion  to  make  calculations  concerning  a  shell  from  a  different 
point  of  view.  The  shell  buried  itself  in  the  side  of  the 
ditch  two  or  three  feet  in  front  of  my  end  of  the  line  and 
the  group  of  men  who  were  within  reach  waited  with  some 
interest  for  its  explosion.  We  had  of  course  no  right  to 
move  and  in  our  position  if  we  had  raised  ourselves  to  do 
this  we  should  have  been  exposed  to  rather  an  ugly 
musketry  fire.  We  waited  for  a  time  that  to  our  imagin 
ation  seemed  to  cover  weeks,  but  the  shell  did  not  go  off. 
Later  in  the  afternoon,  after  the  fight  was  over,  I  went 
back  with  the  lieutenant  of  the  company,  who  had,  like 
myself,  been  within  immediate  reach  of  the  missile,  to  see 
what  had  been  the  matter  with  it.  We  dug  up  the  shell, 
which  bore  a  Birmingham  mark,  and  found  that  the  fuse 
was  defective,  a  little  drop  of  lead  having  run  in  and  cut 
off  the  connection  between  the  end  of  the  fuse  and  the 


324  The  Fight  at  Mansura  [1864 

powder  in  the  shell.  We  did  not  see  any  ground  for  being 
critical  but  were  disposed  to  be  thankful  that  in  buying 
their  ammunition  in  England  the  Confederates  did  not 
always  secure  good  material. 

We  advanced  slowly  across  the  cane  stubble,  lying 
down  from  time  to  time  as  the  commands  reached  us  in 
order  that  our  own  batteries  might  get  a  line  of  fire  over 
our  heads.  It  must  have  been  about  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  when  the  advance  was  finally  fairly  under  way. 
I  remember  that  the  heat  of  the  sun  was  so  great  that 
the  mere  touching  of  the  ground  with  the  hand  caused 
annoyance.  The  necessity  of  lying  on  the  ground  full 
length  and  face  downwards  so  that  the  sun  had  a  full 
assault  on  the  marrow  of  one's  backbone  was  wearisome 
to  a  degree.  For  myself  I  can  say  that  my  head  was 
simply  boiling  with  ache  and  my  comrades  were  as 
impatient  as  I  to  get  away  from  the  cane  stubble 
and  from  under  the  sunshine.  Our  batteries  were  doing 
some  good  shooting  and  the  "Rebs"  were  being  pushed 
back  field  by  field.  These  fields  were  divided  not  by 
fences  or  hedges  but  by  ditches,  at  that  time  dry.  I  was 
myself  in  my  proper  position  at  the  left  of  the  battalion. 
The  Major  had  hurt  his  ankle  and  was  following  in  an 
ambulance  behind  the  lines.  He  had  refused  to  give  up  the 
command  of  the  battalion  to  the  senior  captain,  and  as  I 
could  not  reach  him,  I  was  myself  taking  the  responsibility 
of  such  commanding  as  had  to  be  done.  This  did  not 
appear  however  to  be  a  very  important  responsibility. 
We  were  advancing  in  brigade  line  and  I  had  nothing  to  do 
but  to  pass  along  to  my  company  officers  the  orders  as 
they  came  to  me  from  the  brigade  adjutant  on  the  left. 

We  had  been  advancing  a  field  at  a  time  and  lying  down 
on  the  edge  of  the  dividing  ditches  until  the  order  came  for 
the  next  advance.  At  one  point,  as  we  lay  down,  I  caught 
the  word  (as  I  understood  it)  from  the  brigade  adjutant, 


1864]  A  Fortunate  Blunder  325 

"Next  time,  we'll  take  two  fields, "  and  this  word  was 
passed  along  in  due  course  to  my  company  commanders 
and  from  the  right  of  our  regiment  to  the  battalion 
beyond.  We  were  all  glad  enough  to  think  that  the 
advance  was  to  be  hastened.  Any  dread  that  we  might 
have  had  of  the  Rebel  fire  was  very  much  more  than 
offset  by  the  burden,  not  to  say  the  torture,  of  this  June 
sunshine  on  our  backs.  The  word  came  "Rise  and  for 
ward"  and  we  fell  forward  with  a  will.  When  my  battal 
ion  reached  the  first  ditch,  instead  of  stopping  it  continued 
and  accelerated  its  pace,  as  did  of  course  the  troops  on  our 
right.  The  line  on  our  left  had  however  halted  at  the 
first  ditch.  For  a  moment  there  was  a  gap,  and  if  the 
Rebel  commander,  a  field  or  two  farther  down,  had  taken 
advantage  of  this  opportunity,  he  might  possibly  have 
broken  our  lines  and  gained  a  substantial  advantage. 
There  was  in  fact  however  hardly  time  for  any  such 
counter  movement  on  his  part.  As  the  men  on  the  left 
saw  the  troops  on  the  right  working  forward,  instead  of 
lying  down  according  to  their  own  orders  they  also  pressed 
forward,  irrespective  of  their  officers,  until  they  were  again 
if  not  in  touch  at  least  in  alignment  with  my  own  battalion. 
At  that  point  the  men  took  the  little  affair  into  their 
own  hands.  They  were  unwilling  to  do  any  more  lying 
down.  In  absolute  disregard  of  the  commanding  and 
damning  of  the  several  staff  adjutants  and  of  the  growling 
of  the  old  Maine  colonel  who  commanded  the  brigade, 
the  instant  the  troops  were  again  in  continuous  line  they 
continued  their  advance  with  increasing  speed  until  it 
took  the  form  of  a  charge. 

For  such  an  advance  the  Rebel  line  was  not  in  the  least 
prepared.  They  had  expected  to  see  our  men  again  on 
their  faces,  and  while  the  guns  of  their  batteries  were 
sighted  for  a  mark  beyond  us,  namely  our  own  batteries 
in  the  rear,  their  infantry  on  the  other  hand  was  not 


326  A    Happy  Colonel  [1864 

ready  with  its  musketry  fire.  As  a  result  we  ran  right 
over  their  position.  The  more  active  of  them  managed 
to  make  their  way  through  the  bayou  and  tumbled  out  on 
the  other  side  under  rather  a  sharp  fire  from  our  advancing 
lines.  The  greater  portion  of  their  artillery  they  got 
away,  but  two  guns  that  were  immediately  in  front  of  our 
battalion  they  did  not  succeed  in  saving.  These  guns  the 
1 76th  had  the  prestige  of  capturing,  a  prestige  that  would 
not  have  come  off  had  it  not  been,  first,  for  some  mis 
understanding  of  orders  and  second,  for  rather  an  aggra 
vated  case  of  disobedience  of  orders.  The  fight  was  over 
and,  after  plunging  into  the  water  and  getting  the  worst 
of  the  dust  out  of  our  mouths  and  nostrils,  we  were 
pleased  to  hear  the  decision  of  the  colonel  that  we  were 
too  tired  to  press  forward  in  pursuit.  He  was  also  afraid 
of  being  detached  too  far  from  the  main  column. 

On  this  day,  our  brigade  had  had  the  advance.  We 
therefore  went  into  bivouac  by  the  bayou.  I  had  barely 
got  my  own  men  together  when  I  was  ordered  to  brigade 
headquarters.  The  old  Maine  colonel,  who  was  sitting 
on  a  stump  which  for  the  time  represented  headquarters, 
and  the  brigade  adjutant,  one  of  the  captains  of  his  own 
regiment,  were  looking  about  for  some  material  with  which 
to  make  a  couch.  As  I  approached,  the  adjutant  stopped 
and  went  for  me  rather  sharply.  "Well,  Adjutant,"  he 
said,  "what  in  h —  were  you  doing  on  the  left  of  your 
line  just  before  the  tomfoolery  of  that  advance?  "  I  began 
to  explain  that  I  had  mistaken  the  order  as  passed  to  me, 
but  I  was  so  faint  with  the  effect  of  what  was  practically 
a  sunstroke  that  I  found  it  difficult  to  get  any  words  into 
shape.  The  old  colonel,  seeing  that  I  was  not  in  shape  to 
defend  myself,  said,  "Never  mind,  Adjutant,  we  got  there 
all  the  same,"  and  he  held  out  a  very  welcome  flask.  I 
drank  and  touched  my  cap.  It  was  one  of  the  chances 
that  do  sometimes  come  up  in  campaigns.  If  the  line 


1864]  Hard  Marching  327 

had  been  broken  I  might  myself  have  been  broken  for 
disregard  of  orders.  As  the  result  of  my  blunder  was, 
however,  the  capture  of  guns  and  a  decided  feather  in 
the  cap  of  the  brigade  commander,  there  was  no  reason 
why  he  should  be  particularly  dissatisfied.  As  a  fact  he 
shortly  afterwards  secured  his  brigadier's  star,  which  was 
in  part  at  least  due  to  the  pretty  little  victory  at 
Mansura. 

Our  fight  was,  as  explained,  the  action  of  an  advance 
guard,  and  we  waited  on  the  line  of  the  bayou  until  the 
division  next  in  column  had  come  up.  We  resumed  the 
march  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  but  did  not  again  come 
into  touch  with  the  Rebel  force  which  had  apparently 
been  discouraged  if  not  disgusted  at  our  irregular  onset. 
A  day  later,  the  second  division,  then  acting  as  advance 
guard,  had  a  somewhat  similar  fight,  but  I  was  not  myself 
again  under  fire  during  the  retreat. 

The  fighting  on  the  retreat  impressed  us  as  the  least 
important  of  the  botherations.  It  was  the  marching  in 
the  hot  sun  and  with  the  choking  effect  of  the  fine  red 
dust  which  was  so  particularly  exhausting.  It  was  on  this 
ground  that  any  regiment  was  well  pleased  to  find  itself 
in  the  advance,  because  it  was  thus  spared  the  necessity 
of  breathing  in  the  dust  raised  by  those  who  had  gone 
before.  Those  who  were  marching  in  the  centre  or  in  the 
rear  of  the  column  were  able  to  see  but  a  foot  or  two  before 
their  faces.  They  were  surrounded  by  the  dense  red  dust 
that,  raising  itself  to  the  height  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet, 
was  almost  as  dense  for  the  horsemen  as  for  those  on  foot. 
The  dust  finally  made  its  way  into  nostrils,  ears,  eyes, 
throat,  and  permeated  the  clothing  and  worked  in  through 
the  pores  of  the  skin,  choking  up  the  entire  system.  It 
was,  under  the  circumstances,  not  so  much  a  matter  of 
surprise  that  men  gave  out  in  the  middle  of  the  day  or 
early  in  the  afternoon,  but  that  they  should  have  found  it 


328  Hard  Marching  [1864 

practicable  to  put  in  ten  hours'  marching  daily.  It  was 
a  relief  when,  after  reaching  the  Atchafalaya  bayou,  we 
again  struck  muddy  roads.  The  bayou  was  wide  at 
the  point  where  the  road  came  to  it  and  the  engineers  were 
called  upon  to  improvise  a  bridge.  This  was  put  together 
with  barges  pieced  out  with  certain  of  the  transports,  and 
when  the  last  brigade  with  its  impedimenta  had  crossed 
over,  the  westward  end  was  cut  loose  and  the  column  of 
boats  swung  down  the  stream  and  was  hauled  in  on  the 
Mississippi  side.  The  final  operation  was,  I  was  told  (we 
were  again  in  the  advance),  enlivened  by  some  sharp 
battery  practice  from  the  Rebel  side  of  the  bayou,  but 
this  did  not  prevent  the  programme  of  the  engineers  from 
being  carried  out  successfully. 

The  army  reached  the  Mississippi  in  safety  but  in 
what  could  hardly  be  called  a  satisfactory  condition. 
The  men  were  exhausted,  discouraged,  and  disgusted. 
Many  had  been  left  along  the  roadside  to  be  picked 
up  as  prisoners.  Others,  who  had  managed  to  drag 
themselves  to  the  last  stage  of  the  march,  were  only  fit 
for  the  hospitals.  In  addition  to  the  physical  fatigue, 
there  was  also  the  feeling  of  exasperation  that  an  army 
undoubtedly  stronger  than  the  force  opposed  to  it  had, 
partly  through  a  combination  of  adverse  circumstances 
and  partly  through  the  stupidity  of  its  leadership,  been 
driven  back  and  compelled  to  evacuate  territory  which  it 
had  advanced  to  control.  The  troops  lay  along  a  mud 
bank  on  the  Mississippi  which  in  connection  with  the 
aftermath  of  the  rainy  season  was  each  day  becoming  mud 
dier.  We  had  secured  some  camp  equipage  from  Baton 
Rouge  but  there  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  still  a  shortage 
of  tents  so  that  many  were  exposed  to  the  rain.  The 
troops  that  had  been  lent  to  Banks  from  Sherman's  force 
were  placed  on  transports  and  carried  promptly  up  the 
river,  having  at  least  during  the  time  of  their  sojourn  on 


1864]  Hard  Marching  329 

the  boats  a  comfortable  and  fairly  dry  place  for  resting. 
The  rest  of  us  lay  waiting  and  growling. 

Before  we  had  been  there  very  many  days,  General 
Daniel  E.  Sickles  reported  at  camp  with  instructions  to 
make  an  inspection  of  the  force.  It  was  the  gossip  that 
they  had  no  special  use  for  Sickles  in  or  near  Washington, 
and  that  in  order  to  get  rid  of  him  they  had  sent  him  off 
to  inspect  all  the  armies  in  the  field  outside  of  Virginia. 
We  were  ordered  to  fall  in  on  the  day  following  Sickles's 
arrival  for  a  march  past  in  column  of  companies.  The  day 
fixed  for  the  review  was  ushered  in  by  a  pouring  rain, 
a  rain  such  as  I  have  never  seen  outside  of  Louisiana.  We 
assumed  naturally  that  the  inspection  would  be  postponed. 
It  was  hardly  to  be  supposed  that  men  that  were  as 
exhausted  as  were  our  troops,  should  be  ordered  to  incur 
in  weather  like  this  needless  fatigue  and  exposure  which 
must  mean  for  many  sickness  and  possibly  death.  Sickles 
had,  however,  the  martinet's  notions  that  usually  charac 
terise  the  officer  of  unmilitary  training,  and  in  this  re 
spect  General  Banks  was  himself  in  sympathy  with  the 
inspector-general.  I  received  peremptory  word,  on  inquir 
ing  at  headquarters,  that  my  battalion  must  be  in  readi 
ness  in  half  an  hour,  and  it  was.  I  remember  now  the 
appearance  of  the  group  of  officers  before  whom  our  weary 
and  bedraggled  soldiers  were  parading.  They  like  our 
selves  were  exposed  to  the  rain,  but  they  had  wooden 
quarters  (a  plantation  house)  to  go  back  to  and  a  change  of 
clothing  available.  Sickles  sat  on  his  horse  in  front  of  the 
group  with  the  end  of  his  wooden  leg  sticking  out  from  one 
side  of  the  saddle,  and  from  this  wooden  stump  poured 
a  great  stream  of  water.  As  the  men  marched,  I  could 
hear,  and  I  think  that  Sickles  and  Banks  must  have  heard, 
the  growl  through  the  column.  There  was  a  kind  of 
undertone  of  "Damn  Dan  Sickles"  that,  starting  from 
the  head  of  the  column,  was  taken  up  from  company  to 


330  "Damn  Dan  Sickles"  [1864 

company  like  an  exaggerated  murmur.  A  single  battalion 
could  of  course  have  been  punished  for  insubordination, 
but  it  was  hardly  possible  under  the  circumstances  to 
arrive  at  any  punishment  that  would  be  suitable  for 
this  expressed  indignation  of  an  entire  army  corps.  I 
should  have  been  interested  in  seeing  the  wording  of  the 
report  given  to  the  authorities  in  Washington  by  the 
inspector-general. 

A  week  or  so  later,  another  general  reported  from  the 
North.  This  was  Major-General  Canby,  an  old  regular 
army  officer  who  came  to  relieve  General  Banks.  Banks's 
service  in  the  Civil  War  was  terminated  with  the  close 
of  this  disastrous  Red  River  campaign.  He  had  shown 
pluck,  initiative,  persistency,  a  great  faculty  for  choosing 
the  wrong  men  to  do  important  things,  an  utter  inca 
pacity  for  working  out  the  position  or  the  intentions  of  the 
enemy,  and  an  ignorance  of  the  first  conditions  for  an 
effective  commanding  of  troops  in  the  field.  He  was,  on 
the  ground  of  personal  character  and  of  previous  services 
in  his  State  as  Governor  and  in  Washington  as  Speaker, 
one  of  the  most  promising  and  most  noteworthy  of  those 
who  were  brought  from  civil  life  into  responsible  military 
command,  and  he  had  achieved  in  such  command  a  larger 
measure  of  failure  than  had  fallen  to  almost  any  other 
independent  commander. 

My  own  active  service  in  Louisiana  came  to  a  close 
during  this  same  week  in  which  Banks  was  relieved.  The 
brigade  surgeon  decided  that  I  was  used  up  from  the 
campaign  and  that  I  had  some  recurrence  of  the  swamp 
fever  which  had  very  nearly  terminated  my  service  the 
year  before.  I  was  therefore  put  onto  a  hospital  boat 
and  taken  down  to  New  Orleans  for  a  sojourn  in  the  St. 
James  Hospital.  The  reference  to  the  hospital  boat 
recalls  one  little  incident  of  my  sojourn  on  this  part  of 
the  Mississippi.  The  bivouac  of  my  regiment  was  on  a 


i864]  Ostentation  under  Difficulties  331 

small  point  stretching  out  into  the  river  which  gave  us  the 
convenience  of  a  partly  isolated  camp.  The  hospital  boat 
on  its  way  down  the  river  touched  for  a  moment  one 
morning  at  that  point,  not  to  take  on  sick  (it  was  already 
full),  but  to  leave  an  orderly  with  despatches.  My  major 
took  the  opportunity  of  jumping  on  board  the  boat  during 
the  few  minutes  of  its  stay  and,  with  an  expenditure  of  five 
dollars,  of  corrupting  a  hospital  steward  to  let  him  have 
a  small  chunk  of  ice.  The  ice  was  brought  back  to  our 
shelter  tent  in  a  small  tin  pail  that  had  been  included  in 
the  purchase  and  in  which  it  clinked  deliciously.  The 
major  and  myself  were  gloating  over  the  clink  and  delaying 
the  final  satisfaction  of  drinking  the  cool  water.  At  this 
moment  the  colonel  commanding  the  brigade  came  in  for 
a  morning  call  and  the  small  adjutant  recognised  that  his 
chance  of  sharing  in  that  cupful  of  ice- water  was  lessened. 
"Have  you  anything  to  drink,  Major?"  said  the  colonel; 
''this  damp  hot  weather  makes  one  thirsty." 

"Sorry,  Colonel,"  said  the  major,  "I  am  just  out  of  the 
real  thing,  but  I  can  give  you  some  water,"  and  he  held 
out  the  tin  can.  The  colonel  grimaced  a  little  at  the  word 
water,  but  as  he  lifted  the  cool  tin  to  his  lips  his  dis 
approval  disappeared,  "Ice- water?"  he  said,  "where 
in  thunder  did  you  get  that?" 

"Oh!"  said  the  major  lightly,  "the  17 6th  never  trav 
els  without  ice."  This  word  went  through  the  brigade 
and  our  regiment  got  more  glory  for  this  little  bit  of 
luxury  than  for  the  capture  of  the  two  guns  at  Mansura. 

The  matter  of  the  ice  recalls  another  little  bit  of 
ostentation  credited  or  debited  to  the  I76th.  I  had 
been  able  to  preserve  through  the  dust  and  misadven 
tures  of  the  retreat  a  few  paper  collars  which  had 
finally,  before  we  reached  the  Mississippi,  been  re 
duced  to  one.  This  was  carefully  preserved  for  the  use 
of  the  regimental  commander  or  myself  on  the  occasions 


332  Forms  40  and  41  [1864 

on  which  we  reported  to  brigade  or  division  head 
quarters,  and  I  remember  being  received  on  one  occasion 
by  the  captain,  acting  as  adjutant  of  the  division,  with 
the  inquiry:  "What  has  this  damned  dandy  of  an 
adjutant  got  to  say  for  himself  now?" 

One  of  the  incidental  advantages  in  connection  with  a 
retreating  campaign  is  the  opportunity  afforded  to  officers 
who  are  responsible  for  property,  company  and  regimental 
commanders,  quartermasters,  etc.,  to  straighten  out  their 
obligations  for  articles  of  one  kind  or  another  which  have 
been  delivered  (usually  under  some  special  urgency) 
without  the  proper  voucher.  The  quartermaster's  depart 
ment  of  my  time  (and  the  routine  is  probably  the  same 
to-day)  issued,  among  other  forms,  two  numbered,  re 
spectively,  40  and  41.  The  former  form  was  filled  up  by 
an  officer  who  had  found  or  captured  property  which  came 
properly  into  the  ownership  of  the  United  States.  He 
debited  himself  in  such  case  with  so  many  muskets,  or 
haversacks,  or  canteens,  as  the  case  might  be,  for  which 
later  he  would  have  occasion  to  render  account.  Form 
41  was  entitled  "Lost  or  destroyed  in  action,"  and  under 
this  heading  the  officer  was  instructed  to  enter  any  arti 
cles  for  which  he  had  been  responsible  but  which  had  in 
one  manner  or  another  gone  out  of  his  control.  When 
he  could  secure  for  this  statement  the  approval  of  his 
regimental  or  brigade  commander,  his  responsibility 
was  cleared  as  far  as  these  particular  items  were 
concerned. 

Hans  Breitmann  speaks  of  the  convenience  of  being 
on  the  road  (he  was  even  recommending  for  the  purpose 
the  desirability  of  making  a  trip  to  church);  "Gott  only 
knows  wat  dings  ve  might  pick  oop  upon  de  way."  The 
wise  officer  who  "picks  up  dings  upon  de  way"  retains 
these  in  what  might  be  called  a  reserve  fund.  He  knows 
that  other  articles  will  disappear  later  and  that  it  will  be 


1864]  "Lost  in  Action"  333 

a  convenience  to  have  something  with  which  to  offset 
his  account.  On  the  other  hand,  if  articles  disappear 
without  vouchers,  the  commander,  who  has  already  had 
similar  experience,  makes  a  practice  of  carrying  them  as 
on  hand  until  his  command  is  involved  in  anything  that 
could  be  called  a  fight.  After  such  fight  is  over,  the 
articles  will  be  duly  disposed  of  in  form  41  as  "lost  or 
destroyed  in  action." 

When  my  regiment  landed  in  Louisiana,  the  quartermas 
ter  and  the  company  commanders  were  alike  responsible 
for  quite  an  accumulation  of  articles  which  had  been  duly 
utilised  for  the  benefit  of  the  United  States,  but  for  which 
they  had  no  proper  vouchers  on  file.  The  first  fight  (a 
mere  swamp  skirmish)  was,  on  this  ground,  hailed  with 
delight.  I  remember  going  up  to  the  post  commander 
(I  think  it  was  at  La  Fourche  Crossing)  with  a  long  list 
of  property  that  had  been  "used  up"  in  this  very  serious 
combat.  The  Colonel  looked  at  the  paper  rather  quizzi 
cally.  "Quartermaster,"  he  said,  "I  see  in  this  list 
seventeen  boxes  of  hatchet  heads.  The  fight  must  have 
been  very  fierce  indeed  if  the  boys  were  under  the  necessity 
of  throwing  hatchets  at  the  enemy."  But  he  certified 
to  the  paper  and  I  was,  therefore,  not  called  upon  to  make 
payment  for  those  hatchet  heads.  Our  consciences  were 
fairly  clear  in  regard  to  such  special  shaping  of  statements 
or  certificates.  We  knew  that  no  portion  of  such  property 
had  been  or  could  be  utilised  in  any  way  for  our  own  per 
sonal  advantage.  The  articles  really  had  been  ' '  expended ' ' 
in  service,  and  it  was  not  always  possible  under  an  urgent 
requirement,  say  for  an  axe  or  a  pair  of  trousers,  to  make 
sure  that  the  officer  got  the  proper  voucher  on  his  file, 
and  still  more  difficult  to  take  the  measures  necessary  in 
active  marching  to  preserve  such  file  of  vouchers.  What 
ever  might  happen  with  officers  in  control  of  property  in  a 
wicked  city  like  New  Orleans,  we  men  in  the  field  did  what 


334  In  Hospital  [1864 

we  chose  with  our  vouchers,  each  having  the  certainty 
that  his  particular  mens  was  conscia  recti. 

After  a  sojourn  of  a  week  or  more  at  this  point,  I  was, 
in  company  with  a  number  of  others  who  had  been  more  or 
less  used  up  on  the  retreat,  ordered  to  report  to  the  hos 
pital  at  New  Orleans,  and  we  were  sent  down  by  a  hospi 
tal  boat.  There  was  no  little  luxury  in  the  quiet  comfort 
of  a  boat  for  the  three  days  as  compared  with  the  bivou 
acking  of  the  previous  weeks.  I  was  assigned  to  the  St. 
James  Hospital,  which  had  been  formerly  occupied  as  the 
St.  James  Hotel.  A  second  of  the  noteworthy  hotels  of 
the  city,  the  St.  Louis,  had  in  like  manner  been  taken  over 
for  hospital  services,  while  a  third,  the  St.  Charles,  possi 
bly  the  best  known  in  the  city,  was  for  a  time  utilised  for 
the  headquarters  of  the  department.  The  wards  of  the 
St.  James  contained,  in  addition  to  men  laid  up  as  I  was 
with  camp  fever,  a  number  of  those  who  had  been  wounded 
in  the  actions  along  the  Red  River.  In  the  room  next  to 
mine  lay  General  Fessenden  of  Maine,  who  was  the  son  of 
Senator  Fessenden,  later  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  and 
who  had  at  the  battle  of  Sabine  Cross  Roads  sacrificed  a 
leg  in  the  service  of  his  country.  I  remember  in  my  own 
ward  a  young  lieutenant  named  Stack,  whose  leg  had  been 
shot  through  in  two  places.  The  surgeons  were  endeav 
ouring  to  save  as  much  of  the  length  of  the  limb  as  possi 
ble  and  for  this  purpose  had  hung  the  leg  in  a  support 
suspended  from  the  ceiling.  This  appliance  prevented 
the  owner  from  turning  either  to  the  right  or  left,  and  his 
position  must  in  the  course  of  the  long  weeks  have  become 
very  wearisome.  He  was,  however,  the  cheeriest  man  in 
the  ward,  and  at  times  when  conditions  permitted  he 
enlivened  our  tedium  with  brisk  Irish  songs. 

The  visitors  to  the  hospital  included  groups  of  the  ladies 
of  the  city,  but  their  ministrations  were,  as  far  as  I  can 
remember,  confined  entirely  to  the  sick  and  wounded  of 


i864]  In  Hospital  335 

the  Confederacy  who  shared  our  quarters  and  who  had  of 
course  precisely  the  same  treatment.  I  remember  the 
attractiveness  of  certain  plates  of  fruit  that  passed  my  bed 
side  on  the  way  to  some  more  fortunate  patient  who  had 
fought  in  a  grey  coat  instead  of  a  blue.  I  knew  that  in 
the  hospitals  in  Washington,  or  elsewhere  in  the  North,  the 
women  did  not  undertake  to  make  any  distinction  between 
the  grey  and  the  blue;  but  the  women  in  New  Orleans 
were  a  hot-blooded  lot,  and  the  bitterness  that  had  grown 
up  among  them  under  the  rule  of  General  Butler  had  not 
permitted  itself  to  pass  away  later,  although  they  would 
have  found  difficulty  in  putting  their  finger  on  any  legiti 
mate  ground  of  complaint,  as  far  as  they  were  concerned, 
with  the  regulations  of  the  Banks  administration.  My 
sojourn  in  the  hospital  lasted  about  three  weeks,  at  the  end 
of  which  time,  being  still  diagnosed  as  weak  and  unfit 
for  duty,  I  received  leave  of  absence  and  was  placed  on  a 
transport  sailing  for  New  York.  The  sea  air  and  the 
freedom  from  hospital  environment  on  the  one  hand  and 
from  regimental  cares  on  the  other  proved  reinvigorating, 
and  by  the  time  the  transport  reached  the  harbour  of 
Charleston,  where  we  delayed  for  some  days,  I  was  again 
in  condition  for  work  or  for  fun.  It  must  have  been  in  the 
month  of  August  (1864)  when  I  found  myself  on  James 
Island  looking  across  the  waters  of  the  harbour  at  the  pile 
of  brickdust  called  Fort  Sumter,  at  which  the  first  shot 
of  the  Civil  War  had  been  fired  and  where,  three  years 
later,  the  Palmetto  flag  of  South  Carolina  still  floated  in 
defiance  of  the  authority  of  the  United  States.  The 
broadsides  of  Admiral  Dupont  had  succeeded  in  doing 
little  more  than  batter  into  dust-heaps  the  upright  walls 
of  the  fort  while  still  leaving  intact  the  bomb-proof  vaults 
that  protected  the  garrison.  There  were,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  obstructions  in  the  channel  which  prevented 
the  vessels  from  approaching  near  to  the  fort  and  the 


336  Charleston  Harbour  [1864 

several  attempts  made  with  boating  parties  had  been 
successfully  repulsed. 

Beyond  Fort  Sumter,  could  be  seen  the  battered  lines  of 
Fort  Moult rie,  from  which  had  been  fired  the  first  shot  of 
the  war;  and -to  the  left  across  the  waters  of  the  harbour 
rose  the  spires  and  buildings  of  Charleston,  about  ten  miles 
distant.  General  Gilmore  had  succeeded  some  months 
earlier,  with  the  big  gun  that  came  to  be  known  as  the 
"swamp  angel,"  in  throwing  shells  into  the  city.  This 
"swamp  angel"  was  placed  at  a  point  about  six  miles 
from  the  city,  and  the  range  of  the  gun  was,  I  believe, 
the  greatest  that  had  yet  been  secured.  The  gun  itself, 
an  eight-inch  Parrot t,  burst  after  some  forty  rounds,  and 
was  not  replaced. 

On  the  seaward  end  of  James  Island,  at  what  was  called 
Cummings  Point,  was  the  work  known  as  Fort  Wagner, 
which  at  the  time  of  my  visit  was  in  our  possession.  The 
name  stands  out  in  the  record  of  the  siege  in  connec 
tion  with  the  magnificent  pluck  shown  by  the  54th  and 
55th  Massachusetts  coloured  troops  in  the  fruitless  as 
sault  of  July,  1863.  These  coloured  regiments,  which 
had  been  under  fire  for  the  first  time  but  little  before, 
fought  with  the  persistency  of  veterans  and  left  a  very 
large  proportion  of  their  number  on  the  field.  The  loss 
among  the  officers  (who  were  white)  was  particularly 
heavy,  and  included  Colonel  Robert  G.  Shaw  of  Boston 
of  the  54th  Massachusetts,  and  in  the  same  regiment 
an  old  schoolfellow  of  my  own,  Captain  Cabot  Russell. 

In  September,  1864,  it  had  apparently  been  decided 
that  the  works  protecting  the  city  could  not  be  taken  by 
assault,  but  a  strict  blockade  was  maintained  and  the 
lines  of  our  batteries  were  being  pressed  steadily  closer, 
bringing  larger  districts  of  the  city  within  reach  of  our 
guns.  Gilmore  was  simply  holding  the  place  as  in  a  vice 
until  a  few  months  later  the  approach  of  Sherman's  army 


1864]  Gilmore's  Amateurs  337 

compelled  its  evacuation.  Our  troops  must  have  had 
some  leisure  for  I  remember  being  taken  as  a  guest  (we 
officers  from  the  Department  of  the  Gulf  were  all  on  the 
hospitality  list  of  the  Tenth  Corps)  to  witness  a  dramatic 
performance.  A  couple  of  English  comedies  were  given 
by  the  amateurs  of  Gilmore's  troops  and  the  acting 
impressed  me  as  very  spirited  and  as  furnishing  an  agree 
able  relief  to  the  tediousness  of  camp  life.  I  should  have 
been  quite  ready  to  make  a  longer  visit  if  only  for  the 
opportunities  of  inspecting  the  siege  works  and  of  going 
over  the  scenes  of  the  conflicts  which  had  occupied  the 
troops  during  the  preceding  two  years,  but  I  was  also  of 
course  for  other  reasons  ready  enough  when  the  time 
came  to  resume  my  homeward  voyage  in  the  transport. 
I  must  have  been  two  or  three  weeks  at  home  because 
it  was  late  in  September  before  I  was  again  under  or 
ders  to  report  to  my  regiment.  I  should  have  mentioned 
that  while  I  was  lying  in  the  hospital  in  New  Orleans,  or 
ders  had  come  to  New  Orleans  to  shift  the  Nineteenth 
Army  Corps  to  Virginia.  In  carrying  out  his  plans  for  a 
concentration  of  the  two  principal  armies  of  the  South, 
Grant  had  decided  to  abandon  for  the  present  any 
attempts  to  extend  the  Federal  control  in  the  compara 
tively  unimportant  territory  of  the  south-west.  He  be 
lieved  he  could  utilise  the  troops  from  the  Department 
of  the  Gulf,  who  were  now  of  course  seasoned  veterans,  to 
better  purpose  in  extending  his  lines  to  the  south  of  Lee's 
army  and  thus  gradually  breaking  off  his  connections  and 
his  supplies.  The  Nineteenth  Corps,  now  under  the  com 
mand  of  General  Emory  (General  Canby  had  been  left 
in  command  of  the  Department  of  the  Gulf),  was  placed 
on  transports  (this  time  they  had  a  sufficiency  of  steam 
vessels  and  were  not  under  the  necessity  of  utilising  any 
old  whalers)  and  in  due  course  was  landed  (about  July 
8th)  at  Fortress  Monroe.  General  Emory  was  on  the 


338  Early's  Raid  [1864 

loth  of  July  expecting  orders  to  take  his  troops  to  the  left 
of  the  lines  at  Petersburg.  He  understood  that  he  was 
to  take  part  in  the  movement  for  the  occupation  of  the 
Weldon  Railroad. 

On  the  evening  of  the  loth,  he  received  orders  for 
transportation  in  quite  a  different  direction.  The  ener 
getic  veteran  General  Early,  with  whom  the  Nineteenth 
Corps  was  to  have  transactions  later,  had,  early  in  July, 
crossed  the  Potomac  above  Harpers  Ferry,  and  after  a 
short  fight  at  Monocacy  Creek,  where  General  Wallace 
with  a  small  force  succeeded  in  delaying  Early's  advance 
through  the  long  afternoon,  was  hastening  up  his  troops 
with  the  plan  of  attacking  the  defences  of  Washington. 
The  capital  had  at  that  time  but  a  very  inconsiderable 
garrison.  It  was  not  supposed  that  any  Confederate 
forces  were  available  for  operations  in  that  region  and  the 
able-bodied  men  had  been  pushed  forward  to  do  fighting 
at  the  front.  The  lines  were  manned  with  men  of  the 
Veteran  Reserve  Corps  who  were  more  or  less  disabled 
and  who  were  then  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Wise- 
well,  himself  a  one-legged  veteran. 

The  news  of  Early's  approach  was  of  course  promptly 
telegraphed  to  Grant  and  he  hurried  forward  for  the 
defence  of  the  capital  two  divisions  of  the  Sixth  Corps, 
then  commanded  by  General  Wright,  and  the  troops  of  the 
Nineteenth  Corps  as  far  as  these  had  reported  at  Fortress 
Monroe.  The  brigades  that  were  in  the  slower  transports 
did  not  get  up  in  time  for  this  little  unexpected  campaign. 
The  Nineteenth  Corps  was  in  convenient  shape  for  a  hur 
ried  movement  as  the  troops  were  in  what  might  be 
called  light  marching  order.  Their  heavier  impedimenta 
were  left  behind  at  Fortress  Monroe  while  on  river  steam 
boats  they  hurried  up  the  Potomac  to  the  lines  of  Wash 
ington.  Early  arrived  in  front  of  the  Washington  lines 
on  the  evening  of  the  nth  of  July.  It  was  probably  the 


1864]  The  Capital  in  Peril  339 

case  that  if  he  had  been  willing  to  risk  a  night  attack,  he 
could  have  made  his  way  into  the  city.  The  heavy  guns 
on  the  fortifications  could  not  have  done  any  very  effective 
firing  after  dark,  while  within  the  defences  there  were 
probably  not  more  than  six  thousand  men  bearing  mus 
kets.  Early's  force  comprised  at  this  time  about  fifteen 
thousand.  He  could  of  course  have  held  the  city  but  for 
a  few  hours,  but  the  moral  effect  of  even  such  a  temporary 
capture  would  have  been  very  considerable  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic.  He  could  fairly  have  expected  to  have 
captured  the  President,  while  he  certainly  would  have 
secured  the  money  supplies  of  the  Treasury  and  could 
probably  have  destroyed  munitions  of  all  kinds  in  the 
armories  and  army  warehouses. 

At  this  time  Louis  Napoleon  was  still  pressing  upon 
England  the  policy  of  recognising  the  establishment  of 
the  Southern  Confederacy.  The  news  that,  more  than 
three  years  after  the  beginning  of  the  war,  a  Confederate 
force  had  been  able  to  penetrate  into  the  lines  of  the 
national  capital  would  certainly  have  been  used  as  a  text 
or  argument  for  the  contention  that  the  Confederacy 
was  fairly  established  and  that  success  for  the  North  was 
an  impossibility.  Looking  at  the  matter  with  the  full 
records  now  available  of  the  relative  forces  and  with  the 
knowledge  of  the  undiminished  war  spirit  of  the  Northern 
States,  it  is  easy  to  say  that  the  occupation  for  a  few  hours 
of  the  capital  could  have  had  no  other  effect  on  the 
Northern  cause  than  possibly  the  hastening  of  enlist 
ments  and  the  sharpening  and  strengthening  of  effort. 
Even  the  approach  of  a  French  fleet  to  the  coasts  at  this 
period  in  the  history  of  the  war  could  hardly  have  changed 
the  result  that  was  to  be  secured  ten  months  later.  But 
in  July,  1864,  the  full  data  for  trustworthy  historical  con 
clusions  were  of  course  not  available ;  the  risk  seemed  to  be, 
and  really  was,  serious,  and  the  anxieties  were  great. 


34°  Colonel  Wisewell's  Bluff  [1864 

I  have  understood  that  Early  believed  that  some 
portion  of  the  re-enforcements  had  reached  the  city. 
Colonel  Wisewell  adopted  the  course  (very  exceptional 
from  the  point  of  view  of  military  routine)  of  putting 
on  his  picket  line  practically  the  entire  infantry  force 
that  he  had  available.  To  this  force  he  added  all  the 
male  nurses  of  the  hospitals  who  were  capable  of  bearing 
arms,  and  in  addition,  a  number  of  volunteers,  young  men 
and  old,  from  the  Departments,  whose  muskets  might  help 
to  increase  the  firing  force.  Troops  scrambled  together 
in  this  fashion  would  have  made  but  a  poor  show  by  day 
light  against  Early's  veterans  but  could  be  used  to  advan 
tage  after  dark  to  strengthen  the  show  of  force  on  the 
picket  line.  It  is  stated  that  Early  ordered  the  picket 
lines  to  be  "felt"  by  his  own  pickets  or  skirmishers  with 
the  idea  of  testing  both  the  continuity  of  the  line  and  the 
strength  of  the  force  by  which  it  was  manned.  The 
Federal  pickets  had  received  instructions  (quite  contrary 
to  those  usually  given)  to  keep  up  a  rapid  firing  of  their 
pieces  with  the  smallest  possible  pretext  or  even  without 
pretext  and  also  to  shift  places  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left.  A  large  number  of  them  had  received  breech-load 
ing  carbines,  which  were  just  beginning  at  this  period  of 
the  war  to  be  utilised  for  our  cavalry  but  which  at  no  time 
during  the  war  were  issued  to  the  infantry.  With  the 
aid  of  these  carbines  and  with  some  activity  of  movement 
along  the  extent  of  their  lines,  the  pickets  kept  up  an 
active  firing  at  the  slightest  evidence  of  the  approach 
of  the  opposing  line  and  they  succeeded  in  giving  a  very 
good  impression  (that  is  to  say  an  exaggerated  impression) 
of  their  numbers.  There  were  possibly  on  the  picket 
lines  that  night  about  five  thousand  men.  The  reports 
that  came  to  Early  gave  him  this  estimate.  It  was  his 
very  natural  conclusion  that  the  entire  force  represented 
must  be  not  less  than  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  thou- 


Colonel  WisewelFs  Bluff  341 

sand.  If  this  were  the  case,  it  was  evident  that  the 
divisions  of  the  Sixth  and  the  Nineteenth  Corps  had 
begun  to  arrive;  and  if  that  were  true  the  sooner  he  got 
back  to  the  Potomac  the  better  for  his  own  safety. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  taking  the  risk  of  a  night  attack 
on  Washington — and  the  record  shows  that  he  could  have 
entered  the  city  without  serious  difficulty — he  waited  for 
the  arrival  of  a  delayed  rear-guard,  and  then  through  the 
following  day  carried  on  a  losing  fight  against  the  outer 
line  of  entrenchments.  It  was  a  portion  of  this  fight 
that  President  Lincoln  had  an  opportunity  of  looking 
at  from  the  ramparts  of  Fort  Stevens.  Through  this  day, 
however,  the  landing  of  the  troops  from  Fortress  Monroe 
continued,  and  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  Early  decided 
that  his  business  in  Washington  would  wait,  and  that  he 
had  better  get  back  to  Virginia.  On  the  following  morn 
ing,  General  Wright  was  able  to  start  in  pursuit  of  Early's 
forces  with  two  divisions  of  the  Sixth  Corps  and  two  of  the 
Nineteenth,  but  it  was  too  late  for  the  pursuit  to  be 
effective. 

The  immediate  military  purpose  of  Early's  raid  was 
to  emphasise  with  the  authorities  in  Washington  and 
with  the  commander  in  the  field  the  necessity  of 
keeping  troops  detached  for  the  protection  of  the 
capital.  The  pressure  brought  to  bear  upon  the  lines 
at  Washington  might  help  to  relieve  some  of  the 
pressure  which  was  becoming  so  serious  upon  Lee's  lines 
in  front  of  Petersburg.  The  correspondence  of  Presi 
dent  Davis  with  Slidell,  at  that  time  Commissioner  of 
the  Confederacy  in  Paris,  shows,  however,  that  the  raid 
had  also  a  political  purpose,  or  at  least  a  political  possi 
bility.  Slidell  was  at  the  time  making  very  hopeful 
reports  to  Davis  as  to  the  prospects  of  securing  from 
Louis  Napoleon  a  decision  for  immediate  intervention. 
The  Emperor,  who  had  for  two  years  been  pressing  upon 


342  Political  Campaigns  [1864 

England  through  his  friend  Palmerston  the  desirability 
of  intervention,  had,  as  Slidell  reported,  finally  become 
tired  of  waiting  for  England,  or  had  given  up  the  hope 
of  English  co-operation,  and  was  about  ready  to  act  for 
himself.  He  had  convinced  himself  (and  probably  with 
truth)  that  the  maintenance  of  the  French  power  in 
Mexico,  which  was  important  not  only  for  the  prestige  of 
the  Empire,  but  for  the  profit  of  the  great  company  led 
by  his  half-brother  Morny,  might  easily  depend  upon  the 
success  of  the  Confederacy.  It  was  Slidell's  word  that 
the  intervention  would  come  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to 
report  some  decided  Confederate  success.  The  capture 
in  the  third  year  of  the  war  of  the  national  capital, 
even  if  it  could  have  been  held  for  but  twenty-four 
hours,  could  have  been  emphasised  as  such  a  success, 
even  though  we  may  understand  to-day  it  could  have 
affected  but  little,  if  at  all,  the'  military  situation; 
and  it  was  for  such  a  result  that  it  was  quite  in  order 
for  General  Early  to  utilise  at  whatever  risk  his  little 
army. 

This  same  correspondence  of  Slidell  indicated  that  the 
two  preceding  invasions  of  the  North,  that  which  closed  in 
September,  1862,  with  the  battle  of  Antietam,  and  that 
which  culminated  in  July,  1863,  with  the  decisive  conflict 
of  Gettysburg,  were  also  political  in  their  purpose.  The 
military  historians  of  Europe,  who  were  quite  prepared  to 
recognise  the  ability  of  Lee  and  the  skill  with  which  his 
defensive  operations  had  been  conducted,  have  criticised, 
or  at  least  questioned,  the  wisdom  of  both  of  these  cam 
paigns.  They  could  not  understand  why  Lee  should  be 
willing  to  impair  his  resources  in  men  and  munitions, 
which  had  been  made,  and  which  were  still  to  be  made,  so 
effective  for  defensive  operations,  by  the  waste  and  losses 
necessarily  to  be  incurred  in  aggressive  undertakings 
in  territory  in  which  he  could  not  hope  to  maintain  him- 


1864]  Political  Campaigns  343 

self.  It  is  now  pretty  well  understood  that  these  cam 
paigns  were  not  planned  by  Lee,  but  were  ordered  by 
Davis,  and  that  however  risky  or  unwise  they  may 
have  been  from  the  purely  military  point  of  view,  they 
did  represent  a  sound  policy  as  far  as  the  interests 
and  prospects  of  the  Confederacy  were  concerned. 
Louis  Napoleon,  from  the  outset  keenly  interested  in 
the  success  of  the  Confederacy,  was,  as  before  indicated, 
anxious  for  an  opportunity,  or  at  least  for  a  pretext,  for 
the  threatened  intervention.  Slidell  speaks  sometimes 
with  confidence,  and  then  again  with  irritation  at  the 
vacillation  of  the  Emperor,  but  he  was  hopeful  from  month 
to  month  that,  after  some  satisfactory  Southern  victory,  he 
would  still  secure  the  order  for  the  departure  of  the  fleet. 
If  Lee  had  won  at  Antietam  and  was  able,  as  he  would  then 
probably  have  been  able,  to  isolate  the  capital,  or  if  on 
that  critical  afternoon  in  July,  1863,  he  had  broken  the 
centre  of  Meade's  army  and  had  taken  possession  of 
Philadelphia,  the  intervention  would  have  come  and  the 
existence  of  the  Confederacy  would  have  been  secured. 
The  possibility  of  such  a  result  certainly  warranted  the 
risk  of  both  campaigns. 


r-pHE 


XV 
THe  SHenandoaH  Valley 

attack  on  Washington  had  an  important  influ 
ence  on  the  fortunes  of  the  Nineteenth  Corps.  It 
was  decided  by  General  Grant  and  the  authorities 
in  Washington  that  in  place  of  returning  to  the  lines  in 
front  of  Petersburg  the  troops  that  had  been  sent  up  to 
the  defence  of  Washington,  these  troops  should  be  held  as 
a  defensive  army  for  the  line  of  the  Potomac  with  a  view 
of  using  them  later  for  offensive  operations  through  the 
much  fought  over  territory  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley. 
It  seemed  evident  that  Washington  could  not  safely  be 
left  to  raids  of  the  character  of  that  which  had  just  been 
repelled  and  that  the  best  position  for  an  offensive  army 
to  hold  would  be  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  which  had 
been  the  usual  line  of  advance  for  the  Confederate  in 
vasions  of  Maryland. 

The  activities  of  those  interesting  little  campaigns  of 
July  and  August  were  lost  to  me  on  the  ground  of  my  being 
invalided  at  home.  I  learned  later  that  in  addition  to  my 
very  natural  interest  in  following  the  line  of  march  of 
my  regiment  and  my  army  corps,  I  had  had  a  personal 
interest  connected  with  the  advance  of  Early.  My  sister 
Edith's  friend,  Rebecca  Shepard,  whom  I  had  met  once 
or  twice  before  going  to  Louisiana,  was,  during  these 
summer  months,  working  in  one  of  the  Washington  hospi- 

344 


1864]  Friends  in  Washington  345 

tals  on  the  staff  of  Mrs.  Charles  Russell  Lowell.  She 
made  her  home  with  two  old-time  friends  with  whom  she 
had  lived  in  New  York,  Mrs.  Satterie,  the  widow  of  a 
Tennessee  planter,  and  her  sister  Mattie  Griffiths.  The 
two  sisters  had  inherited  a  considerable  property  in  slaves. 
Mrs.  Satterie's  share  had  been  disposed  of  by  a  dissipated 
husband;  Mattie  Griffiths  on  coming  of  age  had  set  her 
slaves  free  and  had  used  some  remnants  of  her  property 
to  make  provision  for  their  migration  northwards.  The 
sisters  afterwards  kept  a  boarding-house  in  New  York, 
but  they  were  at  this  time  devoting  themselves  to  the  care 
of  a  few  invalided  boarders  in  a  cottage  on  the  outskirts  of 
Washington.  Rebecca  told  me  afterwards  that  on  the 
night  before  our  troops  began  to  arrive,  she,  in  com 
pany  with  the  other  women  nurses  in  the  hospital,  were 
asked  to  take  night  duty  in  addition  to  the  work  they  had 
done  in  their  usual  day  hours  because  the  male  nurses  were 
being  used  on  the  picket  line.  She  had  gone  home  in  the 
morning  and  was  standing  at  the  gateway  of  the  cottage 
at  the  time  when  the  first  files  of  our  dust-covered  troops 
were  hurrying  along  the  road  from  the  point  on  the 
Potomac  on  which  they  had  been  landed.  They  were 
being  marched  with  urgency,  the  day  was  hot  and  the 
road  was  dusty,  and  she  said  that  the  men  were  so  covered 
with  the  white  dust  that  it  was  impossible  to  trace  their 
uniforms  or  to  determine  to  which  side  they  belonged. 
The  first  impression  of  both  the  girls  and  their  companions 
was  that  Early's  troops  were  returning.  Miss  Griffiths 
said  that  she  had  herself  no  dread  of  falling  into  Early's 
hands  because  she  had  known  him  pleasantly  enough  in 
years  past  and  had,  in  fact,  refused  him  twice.  To  the 
girl  Rebecca  this  seemed  rather  a  curious  ground  for 
confidence.  She  did  not  see  why  General  Early  might 
not  under  the  circumstances  be  a  little  irritated  with  this 
recreant  young  Southerner  who  had  been  so  unapprecia- 


346  Women  on  Duty  [1864 

tive  of  his  admiration.  The  test  was  however  never 
made.  The  dusty  soldiers  proved  to  be  men  of  the 
Nineteenth  Corps  and  the  women  were  promptly 
busied  in  handing  out  to  them  as  they  passed  tin  cups 
of  water. 

My  army  corps  had  some  more  exciting  service  to  go 
through  from  which  I  was  still  to  be  shut  out.  The  plans 
for  the  troops  collected  in  the  Shenandoah  speedily  took 
more  decided  and  aggressive  shape.  General  Sheridan, 
who  had  been  in  command  of  some  cavalry  divisions  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  was  selected  to  take  command 
of  the  army  of  the  Shenandoah.  He  had  had  assigned  to 
him  for  the  purpose,  in  addition  to  the  Nineteenth  Army 
Corps,  the  Sixth  Corps,  the  remaining  divisions  of  which 
were  now  sent  to  him  from  Petersburg,  and  the  Eighth 
Corps  under  General  Crook.  The  latter  had  only  recently 
been  organised  and  was  made  up  in 'part  of  the  regiments 
from  the  loyal  districts  of  Maryland  and  West  Virginia 
with  the  addition  of  one  or  two  brigades  of  Western 
troops.  The  latter  included  the  26th  Ohio,  in  which  was 
serving  as  Major  William  McKinley,  afterwards  President 
of  the  United  States.  One  of  the  brigades  in  the  Sixth 
Corps  now  associated  with  the  Eighth  was  commanded  by 
Colonel  Rutherford  B.  Hayes,  who  preceded  by  a  few  years 
William  McKinley  in  the  Presidency.  Another  brigade 
in  the  Sixth  Corps  was  commanded  by  General  Keifer 
whose  personal  reminiscences  were  published  (in  1901) 
by  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons.  With  the  army  thus  confided 
to  him,  Sheridan  promptly  undertook  the  task  of  clearing 
the  Shenandoah  Valley,  a  task  that  had  been  attempted 
often  enough  before  and  with  very  varied  success.  On 
the  I  Qth  of  September,  he  gained  a  decisive  victory 
over  Early 's  troops  at  Winchester,  and  on  the  23d  of 
September,  he  followed  this  up  with  another  blow  at 
Fisher's  Hill.  The  army  then  went  into  quarters  on  the 


1864]  At  Home  on  Leave  347 

line  of  Cedar  Creek  and  it  was  at  this  point  that  I  was  to 
report  in  joining  my  regiment. 

I  had  I  judge  become  fairly  rested  by  my  sojourn  at 
home.  The  family  at  that  time  were  domiciled  at  a  cot 
tage  at  Five  Mile  River  Landing,  on  the  Sound,  the  place 
for  which  my  father  secured  later  the  more  convenient  name 
of  Rowayton.  I  passed  the  greater  portion  of  my  days 
with  the  home  circle  but  as  I  became  stronger  I  went 
into  town  occasionally  with  my  father.  I  remember 
being  taken  by  him,  probably  early  in  September,  to  a 
gathering  of  the  Union  League  Club  and  being  called  upon 
very  unexpectedly  to  tell  the  citizens  who  had  organised 
the  club  for  the  purpose  of  strengthening  the  hands  of  the 
Government,  something  about  the  life  of  the  soldier  at  the 
front.  I  managed,  with,  I  remember,  a  good  deal  of 
hesitancy,  to  give  them  some  narrative  of  personal 
experiences  which  the  Union  Leaguers  decided  to  be 
pertinent  and  interesting.  I  know  that  my  father  was 
pleased  with  the  impression  produced.  I  did  not  under 
take  to  give  any  opinion  about  military  operations,  and 
I  congratulated  myself  on  my  own  reticence  when,  in 
getting  down  from  the  platform,  I  was  brought  by  the 
secretary  of  the  club  to  be  introduced  to  Major-General 
Hooker,  who  had  come  in  while  I  was  speaking.  I 
have  quite  a  clear  memory  now  of  his  six  feet  of 
stature,  the  big  dome  of  his  head,  and  the  red  (pro 
bably  too  red)  complexion.  He  had  a  genial  face, 
but  in  spite  of  the  size  of  his  head,  he  did  not  impress  me 
as  a  man  of  brains,  and  his  record  in  the  army  showed 
that  he  was  much  better  constituted  to  lead  a  division 
or  army  corps  under  the  direction  of  some  one  else 
than  to  plan  out  for  himself  a  campaign  or  a  tactical 
operation. 

I  was  also  called  upon,  at  some  war  gathering  or  holiday 
gathering  at  Rowayton,  to  say  something  to  the  villagers, 


348  At  Home  on  Leave  [1864 

which  was  of  course  a  much  easier  task.  It  is  probable 
that  there  I  should  not  have  been  questioned  or  criticised  if 
I  had  laid  out  an  entire  plan  of  campaign  for  the  several 
armies  of  the  Republic. 


XVI 
THe  Battle  of  Cedar  CreeK 

ON  the  2Oth  of  September,  the  day  the  news  arrived 
of  the  battle  of  Winchester,  I  started  on  my 
return  to  the  front.  I  had  allowed  what  seemed 
to  be  a  full  sufficiency  of  time  before  the  expiration  of  my 
leave  of  absence,  and  a  day  to  the  good.  There  were, 
however,  unexpected  delays  of  several  kinds.  My  route 
lay  through  Baltimore  and  Washington,  and  the  breaking 
down  of  a  bridge  delayed  the  train  some  hours,  so  that  in 
arriving  in  Washington  I  missed  the  only  train  of  the  day 
for  Harpers  Ferry.  In  Washington  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  meet  a  captain  of  my  regiment,  William  Badger, 
who  had  also  been  on  leave  of  absence,  and  whose  time  was 
expiring  at  the  same  hour  as  my  own.  He  was,  like 
myself,  anxious  enough  to  get  to  the  front.  He  was  a  good 
fighting  man  and  a  good  executive  officer,  but  he  disliked 
the  necessity  for  accepting,  in  between  the  active  oper 
ations  of  campaigning,  the  trammels  of  discipline.  Bad 
ger's  own  opinion  was,  he  held,  of  more  value  than  the 
opinion  of  anyone  else  in  the  regiment,  not  excluding 
the  commanding  officer  himself.  He  was  a  good  comrade, 
however,  and  a  man  of  resource,  and  I  was  very  glad  at 
this  time  to  have  him  as  a  companion.  We  finally  got 
what  was  called  a  mixed  train  for  our  journey  to  Harpers 
Ferry,  and  arrived  at  this  abandoned  and  uncomfortable 

349 


350  Colonel  Mosby  [1864 

little  town  late  at  night.  We  had  a  few  hours'  sleep 
before  taking  a  second  train,  which  was  to  start  at  some 
unearthly  hour  of  the  morning  for  Martinsburg,  the  end 
of  the  railroad  connection  with  Sheridan's  army.  We  had 
not  gone  many  miles  before  we  were  brought  to  a  halt  with 
the  report  that  a  bridge  in  front  of  us  had  been  burned, 
and  that  the  train  which  had  preceded  us  (the  train  that 
Badger  and  myself  ought  to  have  caught)  had  been  cap 
tured  by  Mosby.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait 
until  engineers,  brought  up  for  the  purpose  from  Harpers 
Ferry,  could  improvise  some  trestle  work  by  which  our 
train  could  be  gotten  across  the  deep  creek.  This  took 
the  greater  part  of  the  day.  Late  in  that  day,  we  passed 
the  still  smoking  ruins  of  our  unfortunate  predecessor  and 
learned  further  details  of  Mosby's  attack.  It  appeared 
that  this  particular  train  had  carried  a  paymaster  who  was 
going  to  the  front  with  $180,000  belonging  to  my  own 
(Grover's)  division.  News  of  this  special  cargo  had  been 
conveyed  by  some  Rebel  sympathisers  to  Mosby,  who 
naturally  enough  had  "gone"  for  the  money. 

A  month  or  two  later,  I  met  in  prison  the  poor  pay 
master  himself,  who  was  still  borne  down  with  the  trouble 
of  the  loss  of  his  money  and  of  the  necessary  " mixing  up" 
of  his  accounts.  We  had  expected  to  reach  Martinsburg 
in  time  to  go  up  to  the  army^  under  the  protection  of  the 
waggon  train,  which  twice  a  week  took  to  the  front  supplies 
of  food  and  munitions.  The  double  mishaps  on  the  railroad 
on  our  route  brought  us  into  the  town  some  hours  too  late 
for  this  waggon  train.  Martinsburg  was  at  that  time  the 
chief  base  of  supplies  for  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men. 
It  was  also  a  hospital  station.  We  applied  promptly  to 
the  quartermaster  in  charge  of  transportation,  a  certain 
Captain  Tolles,  for  a  loan  of  a  couple  of  horses.  Tolles 
was  in  a  bad  humour  for  some  reason  or  other.  It  was  my 
experience  that  quartermasters,  under  the  pressure  of 


1864]          An  Ungracious  Quartermaster         351 

demands  of  commanders  on  the  one  hand  and  lack  of 
adequate  supplies  on  the  other  (a  lack  which  was  very 
frequently  due  to  unexpectedly  energetic  operations  of  the 
enemy) ,  were  often  out  of  temper.  I  had  been  a  quarter 
master  myself  and  I  had  reason  to  know.  In  any  case, 
Tolles  took  the  ground  that  horses  were  valuable  and  could 
not  be  spared.  "Why, "  he  said,  "Mosby's  troops  are 
now  between  us  and  our  own  lines.  They  got  this  train 
yesterday  and  with  it  supplies  that  could  be  ill  spared. 
Anybody  going  up  the  valley  unless  with  an  escort  will  be 
gobbled.  One  officer  more  or  less  is  of  no  importance,  but 
I'll  be  damned  if  I'll  spare  horses!"  A  plea  for  a  pair 
of  mules  even  was  met  by  a  similar  emphatic  refusal. 
Our  threat  that  we  would  go  to  the  front  on  foot  and  that 
we  would  report  the  quartermaster  for  failure  to  expedite 
our  efforts  to  obey  orders,  produced  merely  the  derisive 
answer  that  our  reports,  bad  or  good,  would  be  given 
in  Libby  Prison  and  would  not  do  him  any  good  or 
harm. 

We  started  back  to  our  inn  in  a  frame  of  mind  that  was  a 
mixture  of  apprehension  (for  our  broken  leave  of  absence) 
and  indignation.  In  taking  a  short  cut  through  a  lane 
that  went  out  from  what  was,  if  I  remember  rightly,  the 
only  real  street  in  Martinsburg,  the  Captain  stubbed  his 
foot  and  caught  the  toe  of  his  boot  in  a  hole  at  the  side  of 
the  lane.  Leaning  down  to  disentangle  his  boot,  he 
shouted,  "Adjutant!  I  hear  a  horse  below  here.  He 
must  be  in  a  cellar  to  which  this  hole  is  an  opening." 
"Well,"  I  said,  "that  would  be  a  queer  place  for  a  horse, 
at  least  for  one  that  is  likely  to  be  of  any  use. "  The  hole 
was  in  front  of  a  little  cabin,  which  proved  on  investigation 
to  be  occupied  by  a  couple  of  ancient  darkies.  The  old 
man  was  sitting  in  front  of  the  fire  (the  weather  was 
already  autumnal)  warming  his  hands  and  feet,  and  his  old 
woman  was  bustling  about  on  some  show  of  household 


352  A  Buried  Horse  [1864 

undertakings.  ' '  Uncle, ' '  said  the  Captain, ' '  we  want  that 
horse  that  you  have  down  in  your  cellar." 

"Why,  Massa, "  said  the  old  man,  "  I  ain't  got  no  hoss. 
Fust  the  Rebs  dun  took  all  the  hosses,  an'  then  the  Yanks 
come  an'  took  all  that  war  left  an'  there  ain't  been  no 
hosses  in  this  yere  town  fur  two  years,  leastways  no  loose 
hosses." 

Nothing  further  was  to  be  gotten  out  of  the  old  man,  and 
it  only  remained  to  undertake  for  ourselves  the  investiga 
tion  of  the  not  very  extensive  premises.  Pushing  open 
the  back  door,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  little  yard  from 
which  we  made  our  way  through  another  door  and  an 
inclined  passage  down  into  a  space  beneath  the  house 
which  might  be  called  a  cellar  and  which  extended  out 
beneath  the  street.  It  was  entirely  dark  and  we  did  not 
happen  to  have  with  us  even  a  match.  We  felt  about  in 
the  space  and  placed  our  hands  upon  the  form  of  the  horse. 
A  slight  pull  served  to  break  away  the  much  decayed 
halter,  and  the  Captain  pulling  and  the  Adjutant  pushing, 
the  horse  was  with  some  difficulty  pushed  up  the  slope 
and  out  into  the  back  yard.  He  was,  for  the  time  at  least, 
quite  blind,  as  was  natural  enough  after  his  underground 
experience.  He  was  covered  with  a  kind  of  mould  and, 
notwithstanding  the  sunshine,  he  shivered  so  violently 
in  coming  into  the  open  air  and  was  generally  so  weak  on 
his  pins  that  we  feared  he  might  fall  down.  We  propped 
him  up  into  one  corner  of  the  yard,  the  sunshiny  corner. 
We  rubbed  off  his  mould  and,  while  the  Captain  was  wash 
ing  out  his  nostrils  with  some  whiskey  and  water,  I  hur 
ried  around  to  the  commissary  warehouse,  the  officer  in 
charge  of  which  proved  to  be  better  tempered  than  Cap 
tain  Tolles,  and  "  commandeered "  some  oats  "for  the  good 
of  the  service. "  The  smell  of  the  whiskey  and  the  taste 
of  the  oats  revived  our  charge  very  much,  and  when  we  got 
him  fairly  rubbed  down,  he  looked  (although  woefully  thin) 


1864]  The  Horse  Commandeered  353 

as  if  he  might  still  be  made  fit  for  service.  In  the  yard 
stood  an  old  buggy,  which  had  doubtless  come  in  with  the 
horse,  but  which  could  not  be  gotten  out  again  until  a  part 
of  the  back  fence  that  had  been  nailed  over  the  old  gate 
way  had  been  taken  down.  That,  however,  was  not  a 
difficult  task  as  the  fence  was  pretty  well  decayed.  The 
buggy  itself  was  very  mouldy  and  called  for  repairs  in 
every  direction.  Another  application  at  the  commissary's 
gave  us  the  use  of  hammer,  nails,  etc.,  and  with  a  good 
deal  of  patching  and  tying  and  nailing,  the  buggy  was  put 
into  such  shape  that,  apart  from  any  hidden  delinquencies, 
it  could  be  made  available  for  at  least  a  short  trip.  We 
were  not  a  little  relieved  when  we  had  gotten  the  horse 
in  between  the  shafts  and  had  put  on  the  harness.  The 
latter  was  taken  from  the  commissary  on  the  strength  of  a 
receipt  given  by  the  two  of  us  in  the  name  of  Grover's 
division.  I  hope  that  this  informal  voucher  did  not 
stand  in  the  way  of  the  balancing  of  the  commissary's 
monthly  accounts. 

Assured  now  that  the  horse  could  not  fall  down  and  not 
dreading  any  attempt  at  running  away,  we  went  back 
into  the  kitchen  of  the  cabin  to  make  a  bargain  with  the 
(so-called)  owner.  We  told  him  that  if  he  would  come 
to  the  front  with  us,  we  would  give  him  five  dollars 
and  he  could  bring  the  horse  back.  The  old  gentleman 
did  not  want  to  go.  He  had  heard  that  Mosby  was 
about  and  he  was  much  afraid  of  being  killed  or  captured. 
His  missus  did  not  share  his  fears.  "Now,  Sam,"  she 
says,  "yer  go  with  the  gen'lemen  an'  git  thar  five  dollars 
an'  bring  the  dollars  an'  the  hoss  back."  She  had  the 
stronger  will  of  the  two,  and  after  a  little  time  she  got  him 
into  his  overcoat,  with  an  extra  comforter  about  his  neck, 
and  with  groans,  partly  of  rheumatism  and  partly  of 
apprehension,  he  pulled  himself  onto  the  seat  of  the 

buggy.     We  steered  the  vehicle  out  into  the  back  lane  and 
23 


354  To  the  Front  by  Buggy  [1864 

from  there  into  the  street  leading  to  the  Winchester  pike. 
Neither  the  Captain  nor  myself  ventured  to  get  into  the 
buggy  until  we  had  gotten  away  from  the  cobble  stones 
of  the  town,  partly  because  we  dreaded  the  effect  of  the 
extra  weight  and  partly  because  it  was  still  important  to 
watch  the  working  of  the  craft  with  reference  to  further 
repairs.  We  did  have  to  make  one  or  two  halts  before 
clearing  the  town,  but  having  brought  with  us  the  hammer, 
some  pieces  of  board,  and  some  extra  nails,  and  also  a  good 
supply  of  rope,  we  were  able  to  do  the  further  patching  and 
tying  that  proved  to  be  necessary. 

As  we  went  through  the  town,  the  soldiers  of  the 
quartermaster's  guards  came  out  along  the  street  and 
jeered  at  us:  "Hello!  Captain,  when  did  you  come 
out  of  the  Ark  with  your  beast?  Adjutant,  where  did  you 
dig  up  that  horse?  Are  you  going  for  a  funeral  or  for  a 
fight?"  We  said  nothing,  partly  because  there  was 
nothing  very  pertinent  to  say,  and  partly  because,  as  said, 
we  were  very  busy  watching  our  machine,  and  if  it  were 
to  collapse  we  preferred  that  our  collapse  should  be  delayed 
until  we  got  away  from  our  critical  spectators.  The 
horse  went,  however,  really  better  than  we  could  have 
expected,  and  the  buggy  was  still  holding  together  when 
we  reached  the  high-road.  Our  valises  had  of  course 
been  thrown  in  as  we  started.  The  Captain  mounted 
at  the  front  and  I  took  a  more  modest  place  on  the  back 
of  the  seat  where  I  could  still  keep  a  watch  over  the 
wheels,  etc.,  and  we  bowled  along  the  pike  at  a  rate  of  at 
least  three  miles  an  hour,  keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for 
Mosby.  We  drove  through  the  remaining  daylight  hours 
and  when  it  was  too  dark  for  safety  we  pulled  out  into  a 
field  sufficiently  far  from  the  road  to  be  hidden  from  the 
observation  of  any  passers.  The  horse  had  an  unwonted 
meal  of  oats,  and  the  passengers  (not  venturing  to  make  a 
fire)  had  to  be  satisfied  with  hardtack  and  cold  pork. 


1864]  To  the  Front  by  Buggy  355 

The  Captain  and  I  kept  watch  and  watch  through  the 
night  while  the  darky  slept  the  sleep  of  the  irresponsible. 
I  was  taking  my  last  doze  as  the  dawn  broke  and  was 
aroused  suddenly  (one  wakens  easily  in  war  time)  by  the 
sound  of  sharp  though  still  distant  musketry  firing.  I 
jumped  at  once,  calling  to  the  Captain,  and  the  darky 
wakened  at  the  sound  of  my  voice.  The  Captain,  who  had 
been  leaning  up  against  a  tree  keeping  himself  awake  as 
best  he  could,  ran  forward  to  the  next  slope  in  order  to 
locate  if  possible  the  position  of  the  firing.  I  took  the 
course  of  climbing  the  tree.  We  both  got  a  view  at  about 
the  same  moment  of  what  was  happening.  I  could  see 
by  the  increasing  daylight  a  mile  or  more  southward  on 
the  pike  the  last  waggons  of  what  was  evidently  our 
delayed  waggon  train.  A  little  farther  along  came  gleam 
ing  through  the  dusk  the  flashes  of  rifles  and  pistols. 
These  flashes  soon  died  away.  The  skirmish,  however 
sharp,  was  evidently  over.  As  far  as  we  could  judge 
from  the  retreating  sound  of  the  firing,  the  attacking 
party,  doubtless  some  of  Mosby's  men,  had  been  repulsed. 
If  the  attack  had  been  made  on  the  rear  of  the  train,  we 
should  have  been  in  a  bad  position  as  we  should  have 
been  cut  off  from  our  friends.  I  scrambled  down  the 
tree  as  the  Captain  came  running  back  from  his  slope. 
I  had  been  so  much  absorbed  in  watching  the  firing  that 
I  had  not  noticed  what  the  darky  was  doing.  He  had 
busied  himself,  properly  enough,  with  hitching  the  horse 
into  the  buggy,  but  to  my  concern,  while  I  was  still 
pretty  well  up  in  the  tree  fork  and  the  Captain  was  yet 
in  the  distance,  the  darky,  in  getting  into  the  buggy,  had 
turned  the  horse's  head  northward.  I  called  to  him, 
"No!  no!  We  are  going  the  other  way,"  but  he  paid 
no  attention  to  me.  I  even  fired  my  pistol  over  his  head, 
but  he  was  more  afraid  of  Mosby's  men  than  of  any  shoot 
ing  that  a  northern  Adjutant  might  do,  and  as  I  reached 


We  Lose  the  Buggy  [1864 

the  ground  the  darky  was  driving  off  through  the  rough 
field  towards  the  pike  northward  at  a  pace  that  would  as 
I  thought  break  the  buggy  into  bits.  The  buggy  held 
together,  thanks  to  our  effective  repairing,  at  least  as  long 
as  we  could  watch  it — and  we  have  never  seen  it  since.  We 
had  something  to  regret,  but  so  had  the  darky ;  he  got  away 
without  his  five  dollars  and  I  judge  that  he  had  a  bad  time 
with  his  missus  when  he  got  back. 

The  Captain  and  I  slung  our  valises,  which  the  darky 
(very  decently)  had  not  put  back  into  the  buggy,  onto  a 
branch  and  trotted  with  them  as  rapidly  as  practicable 
along  the  road  until  we  caught  up  with  the  tail-end  waggon 
of  the  train,  the  train  itself  being  not  yet  in  motion.  The 
valises  were  thrown  into  the  waggon  with  instructions 
to  the  driver  to  deliver  them  to  the  quartermaster  of 
Grover's  division,  and  we  hurried  to  the  front  of  the  train 
and  reported  ourselves  to  the  captain  in  charge  of  the 
train.  "  You  are  a  little  late,"  said  the  captain,  "the  fight 
is  over. "  He  soon  realised,  however,  that  we  had  done  the 
best  we  could  to  join  ourselves  to  his  troop,  and  that  our 
delay  was  due  to  no  fault  of  ours.  A  company  of  Mosby's 
men  had,  as  we  had  assumed,  made  a  hasty  dash  at  day 
break  with  the  expectation  of  stampeding  the  mules  and 
possibly  of  getting  the  better  of  the  guard.  ,  The  guard 
proved,  however,  to  be  on  the  alert  and  the  drivers  kept 
control  of  their  animals.  The  mules  were  not  stampeded 
although  one  or  two  were  killed.  A  few  men  had  been  hit 
on  both  sides,  but  when  the  "  Rebs"  found  that  they  were 
not  able  to  effect  a  surprise,  they  gave  up  the  attack  and 
scattered  southwards. 

Emphasising  with  the  captain  of  the  guard  the  urgency 
of  our  requirement,  as  we  did  not  have  many  hours  left  of 
our  leave  of  absence,  we  persuaded  him  to  let  us  have  a 
couple  of  the  waggon  mules  which  were  to  be  returned 
later  to  the  train  quartermaster.  With  these  mules  we 


1864]  We  Report  for  Duty  357 

made  the  best  speed  possible  along  the  road,  munching 
our  breakfast  of  hard-tack  and  cold  pork  as  we  trotted. 
We  succeeded  in  reaching  camp  before  noon  and  in  re 
porting  for  duty  with  perhaps  half  an  hour  to  spare  of 
our  leave  of  absence. 

Our  comrades  looked  at  us,  as  I  now  remember,  a  little 
askance.  The  regiment  had  during  the  past  few  weeks 
been  through  some  active  marching  and  fighting  and  we 
had  been  absent.  It  was  even  thought  probable  that 
Sheridan's  work  in  the  valley  was  over  and  that  we 
might  not  see  any  more  fighting  before  the  time  came  for 
winter  quarters.  I  felt  the  difficulty  and  the  implied 
reproach  although  I  had  nothing  to  blame  myself  for. 
My  surgeon's  certificates  and  my  leave  of  absence  were 
not  only  in  proper  form,  but  had  been  passed  on  real  dis 
ability,  and  I  had  had  no  means  of  foreseeing  the  fight  at 
Winchester.  I  am  not  so  sure  about  the  case  of  Badger.  I 
think  he  had  secured  leave  of  absence  on  different  grounds, 
and  he  certainly  did  not  look  like  a  convalescent.  In  any 
case,  there  fortunately  proved  to  be  still  fighting  enough 
ahead  for  the  regiment,  fighting  in  which  we  were  able 
to  bear  our  part. 

The  Shenandoah  Valley,  in  which  was  going  on  the 
campaigning  of  the  autumn  of  1864,  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  portions  of  Virginia.  The  length  of  the  region 
that  belongs  properly  to  the  valley  is  about  120  miles. 
The  streams  flow  into  the  Potomac  so  that  the  trend  of  the 
land  is  northward.  The  main  stream  is  the  Shenandoah 
River,  but  this  is  made  up  of  two  forks  which  unite  under 
Massanutton  Mountain  about  six  miles  south  of  Middle- 
town.  Near  the  point  of  union,  there  flows  into  the  Shen 
andoah  the  little  stream  of  Cedar  Creek,  which  has  its 
rise  on  the  slopes  of  the  Alleghanies  eight  or  ten  miles  to 
the  west,  and  which  flows  for  the  greater  part  of  its  course 
nearly  directly  eastward,  crossing  the  turnpike  at  right 


358  The  Shenandoah  Valley  [1864 

angles.  This  turnpike  was  and  is  the  essential  feature  of 
the  valley.  Its  lines  were  selected  by  George  Wash 
ington,  who  was  in  1748  carrying  on  work  as  a  surveyor. 
I  have  been  told  by  surveyors  who  knew  the  region  well 
that  the  selection  of  the  route  for  this  pike  at  a  time  when 
the  Valley  was  covered  with  forests  so  that  the  view  was 
limited  in  every  direction,  gave  evidence  of  exceptional 
knowledge  and  judgment  on  the  part  of  the  young 
surveyor.  His  points  had  to  be  fixed  by  flags  from  the 
tree  tops,  as  the  assistants  bearing  the  measuring  chains 
could  not  be  seen  by  each  other  at  any  distance.  The 
trend  of  the  land  also  had  to  be  judged  from  the  tree  tops 
or  mountain  slopes.  In  any  case  it  has  not  been  found 
necessary  or  even  advisable  to  alter  the  lines  of  the  pike 
since  these  lines  were  first  fixed.  The  roads  in  Virginia 
have  never  been  noted  for  their  excellence  and,  during 
the  war  times,  had  of  necessity  fallen  into  bad  repair, 
so  that  in  the  seasons  of  wet  weather  they  were  often 
enough  rendered  nearly  impassable  by  the  mud.  The 
Shenandoah  pike  was,  however,  an  exception.  Notwith 
standing  the  neglect  of  surface  repairs  during  the  war 
years,  the  foundations  were  so  thoroughly  laid  that  the 
road  remained  in  substantial  working  order  even  at  this 
late  period. 

A  large  proportion  of  the  campaigns  through  the  valley, 
small  and  large,  were  fought  for  the  possession  of  the 
pike.  It  was  usually  the  attempt  of  the  Union  forces, 
advancing  southward,  to  push  their  opponents  westward  of 
the  pike  so  as  to  separate  them  from  their  connections 
with  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  The  purpose  of 
the  Rebel  commanders,  when  the  advantage  and  the 
advance  rested  with  them,  was  in  like  manner  to  push 
our  forces  westward  towards  the  Alleghanies  and  thus  to 
separate  them  from  their  base  of  supplies  along  the 
Potomac.  The  two  ridges  by  which  the  valley  is  formed, 


The  Shenandoah  Valley  359 

the  Blue  Ridge  on  the  east  and  the  Alleghanies  on  the 
west,  are  distant  from  each  other  from  six  to  thirty  miles. 
I  think  the  closest  point  of  approach  is  that  at  which 
Cedar  Creek  makes  its  way  eastward  into  the  Shenandoah. 

The  country  is  very  fertile  and  had  from  a  very  early 
period  in  the  settlement  of  Virginia  been  occupied  by 
prosperous  farmers.  Notwithstanding  that  active  fight 
ing  had  gone  on  up  and  down  the  valley  for  a  period  of 
more  than  three  years,  there  still  remained  under  culti 
vation  a  good  many  thousand  acres,  and  hundreds  of 
barns  still  contained  corn  and  fodder  which  were  valuable 
as  supplies  for  either  army  that  could  get  hold  of  them. 
One  reason  why  the  Rebel  leaders  found  it  important 
to  keep  forces  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  notwithstanding 
the  pressure  upon  their  lines  farther  east,  was  to  utilise 
this  granary  of  Virginia  to  the  greatest  extent  possible 
for  the  supplying  of  their  own  troops  and,  conversely,  to 
prevent  northern  armies  from  advancing  southward 
to  secure  the  benefit  of  these  supplies. 

One  feature  of  the  series  of  campaigns  in  the  valley 
was  the  opportunity  for  flank  attacks,  attacks  which 
became  almost  monotonous  in  their  character.  At  vari 
ous  points  through  the  Blue  Ridge  were  gaps  or  defiles 
more  or  less  passable  for  troops  coming  from  the  east. 
Through  these  gaps  a  force  advancing  or  retreating  along 
the  pike  could  be  taken  in  flank.  A  timely  attack  on  a 
line  of  waggons  usually  had  the  result  of  blocking  the  road 
with  the  bodies  of  disabled  mules  and  with  the  wrecks  of 
the  waggons.  The  troops  to  the  north  and  south  of  the 
waggons  would  then  themselves  be  open  to  attacks  for  the 
repelling  of  which  they  were  usually  in  a  disadvantageous 
position.  The  majority  of  these  flank  attacks  were  made 
by  the  Rebel  forces,  who  for  the  greater  part  of  the  war 
controlled  the  territory  to  the  east  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 
It  is  necessary  to  admit  that  the  advantage  in  the  larger 


360  The  Shenandoah  Campaigns  [1864 

number  of  the  campaigns  that  went  on  through  the  valley 
rested  with  the  Rebel  leaders,  who,  in  addition  to  the 
advantage  of  position  and  of  a  detailed  knowledge  of  the 
country,  showed  on  the  whole  a  better  capacity  for  utilis 
ing  their  troops  (they  were  often  in  the  minority  in 
numbers)  and  a  greater  initiative  of  attack  and  activity 
of  movement  than  were  found  practicable  by  the  Federal 
commanders.  Milroy,  Banks,  Hunter,  and  Sigel,  generals 
who  had  entered  the  valley  with  what  seemed  to  be 
sufficient  and  well-organised  forces  and  with  the  intention 
of  extending  Federal  control  as  far  south  as  Lynchburg, 
had  met  with  misfortune  and  disaster  and  had  sacrificed 
for  themselves  and  for  their  troops  prestige  and  reputation. 
The  problem  had  now  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  a 
commander  of  different  calibre.  General  Sheridan,  to 
whom  had  been  given  the  responsibility  of  driving  the 
Rebel  forces  from  the  valley,  was  undoubtedly  a  man  of 
better  leadership  capacity  than  was  possessed  by  his 
opponent,  General  Early.  It  is  fair  to  say  also  that  he 
commanded  larger  forces,  and  forces  the  equipment  of 
which  at  this  late  period  of  the  war  was  decidedly  in 
advance  of  that  of  their  adversaries.  At  the  time  when  I 
was  again  in  active  service  with  my  regiment,  Sheridan 
had  already  administered  two  signal  defeats  to  General 
Early,  and  it  was  apparently  his  own  belief,  as  it  was 
certainly  the  expectation  of  the  army,  that  the  Rebel 
forces  would  not  again  make  a  stand  in  the  valley.  This 
belief  proved,  however,  to  be  unfounded.  Early  was  a 
tough  old  soldier  who,  while  probably  not  very  clear 
headed,  had  the  courage  of  his  convictions  and  a  persist 
ency  which  brought  him  more  than  once  very  close  to  a 
real  triumph.  In  the  very  completeness  of  his  defeat 
at  Winchester  and  the  belief  that  this  would  give  to  his 
opponent  an  over-confidence  as  to  his  inability  to  make 
any  further  stand,  Early  saw  his  opportunity.  Sheridan 


The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  361 

had  received  from  Grant  and  from  Lincoln  congratulations 
on  his  two  victories,  congratulations  which  were  them 
selves  evidently  based  on  the  belief  that  the  valley  cam 
paign  was  substantially  over. 

It  was  Grant's  desire  to  concentrate  on  Lee's  lines  at 
Petersburg  all  the  troops  that  were  available  in  order 
to  finish  up  the  larger  movements  of  the  campaign. 
Shortly  after  the  battle  of  Fisher's  Hill,  the  Sixth  Corps, 
commanded  by  General  Wright,  which  constituted  about 
two-fifths  of  Sheridan's  force  (the  Nineteenth  Corps  being 
smaller  in  numbers  and  the  Eighth  very  much  smaller), 
was  ordered  to  rejoin  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  It  had 
advanced  a  half  day's  journey  on  its  march  to  the  Potomac 
when  Sheridan  received  instructions  to  report  to  Washing 
ton  for  an  interview  with  Grant.  Grant  wanted  to 
ascertain  from  a  direct  personal  report  whether  it  might 
not  be  practicable  to  abandon  the  valley  altogether  and 
to  bring  up  to  Richmond,  in  addition  to  the  Sixth  Corps, 
the  troops  of  the  Nineteenth.  On  his  way  to  Martins- 
burg,  Sheridan  overtook  the  columns  of  the  Sixth  Corps. 
He  had  no  real  apprehension  concerning  the  safety  of  his 
army.  He  writes  in  his  journal  that  he  thought  "the 
snake  had  been  thoroughly  scotched"  and  would  not 
again  lift  its  head.  With  a  feeling  of  extra  precaution, 
however,  he  decided  that  it  might  be  as  well  not  to  have 
the  fighting  force  lessened  during  the  absence  of  its  com 
mander.  He  therefore  directed  General  Wright  to 
retrace  his  march  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours  the 
Sixth  Corps  was  again  in  its  lines  on  the  right  of  the  Nine 
teenth,  lines  which  faced  southward  up  the  valley.  It 
was  the  rather  unwonted  conservatism  of  General  Sheridan 
that  saved  his  army  from  a  great  disaster.  The  position 
of  the  Sixth  Corps  extended  to  a  point  about  six  miles  west 
of  the  pike.  General  Wright,  in  command  of  this  corps, 
outranked  General  Emory,  who  commanded  my  own  corps, 


362  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  [1864 

the  Nineteenth.  In  rejoining  the  army  he  had,  therefore, 
in  the  absence  of  Sheridan,  the  supreme  command.  On 
the  right  of  the  Sixth  Corps,  the  ground  continued  to  be 
level  for  a  mile  or  two  until  the  beginning  of  the  slope  of 
the  Alleghanies.  The  fertile  fields  of  the  farms  extended 
at  this  point  right  across  the  valley  and  well  up  the  slopes 
of  the  western  ridge  of  mountains,  a  ridge  which  was  in 
any  case  not  steep.  From  the  right  of  the  infantry  line 
extended  the  position  of  the  cavalry,  which  was  at  that 
time  under  the  command  of  General  Torbert.  This 
position  had  been  assigned  to  the  cavalry,  as  well  because 
with  the  level  ground  both  north  and  south  they  retained 
the  necessary  freedom  of  action,  as  for  securing  a  better 
measure  of  protection  against  an  attack  on  the  right  flank. 
Next  eastward  from  the  Sixth  Corps  came  the  line  of  my 
own  corps,  the  Nineteenth,  which  occupied  therefore  the 
centre  of  the  position.  The  left  of  the  Nineteenth  Corps 
extended  nearly  to  the  pike.  The  ground  sloped  down 
somewhat  towards  the  pike  and  the  bivouacs  of  the  troops 
ended  with  the  portion  that  was  level.  My  own  regiment 
happened  to  be  on  the  extreme  left  of  the  left  brigade. 
Our  immediate  flank  was  therefore,  so  to  speak,  "in  air," 
as  for  a  space  of  a  thousand  feet  or  so  the  line  was  broken 
by  the  two  slopes  on  either  side  of  the  pike  and  by  the 
width  of  the  pike  itself.  Eastward  of  the  pike,  at  a  point 
where  the  level  ground  again  began,  was  the  position  of 
the  Eighth  Corps  the  line  of  which  extended  right  up  to 
the  flank  of  Massanutton  Mountain.  The  slope  of  the 
mountain  was  steep  and  thickly  wooded,  and  it  was  the 
report  of  the  engineers  and  of  the  adjutant-general  with  his 
staff  who  were  responsible  for  the  selection  of  the  lines, 
that  the  slope  of  the  mountain  could  not  be  traversed  by 
any  organised  body  of  troops.  To  the  eastward  therefore 
of  the  bivouac  of  the  Eighth  Corps,  the  dependence  for 
protection  against  a  flank  attack  was  simply  the  assumed 


i864]  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  363 

inaccessibility  of  the  mountain  slope  and  the  lack  of  road 
way  and  paths.  General  Crook,  who  commanded  the 
Eighth  Corps,  had,  in  addition  to  the  picket  line  at  his 
front  (to  the  south) ,  some  pickets  thrown  up  into  the  woods 
on  the  east,  but  the  woods  were  so  dense  that  their  range 
of  view  was  very  much  restricted.  In  front  of  the  line 
of  the  Nineteenth  Corps,  at  the  foot  of  a  rather  sharp 
declivity,  ran  (eastward)  the  little  stream  of  Cedar  Creek. 
Our  position  had  been  strengthened  somewhat,  as  far  as 
an  approach  from  the  south  was  concerned,  by  a  hastily 
constructed  trench,  the  earth  of  which  had  been  thrown 
to  the  south.  The  trench,  together  with  the  earth  in 
front,  afforded  a  protection  averaging  about  three  feet  in 
height. 

It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  while  the  position 
had  been  selected  with  care  and  was  supposed  to  be  per 
fectly  defensible  against  any  equal  force,  there  was  no 
real  apprehension  in  the  minds  either  of  the  troops  or  in 
their  leaders  in  regard  to  an  attack.  It  was  understood  by 
all  of  us  that  General  Sheridan  considered  the  campaign 
in  the  valley  to  have  been  practically  terminated  and  that 
his  errand  in  Washington  was  to  arrange  for  the  more 
effective  use  to  be  made  elsewhere  of  the  troops  under  his 
command.  It  was  assumed  further  that  the  retreat 
of  Early  had  continued  southward  and  that  no  force  of 
importance  was  within  reach.  On  the  eighteenth  of 
October,  General  Wright  had  ordered  a  reconnoissance  in 
force,  which  meant  in  this  case  a  force  of  three  battalions. 
The  troops  were  commanded  by  a  major  of  the  26th 
Massachusetts.  Advancing  without  full  measure  of 
precaution,  he  ran  into  what  was  practically  an  ambus 
cade  ;  his  battalions  were  caught  by  a  double  flank  fire  and 
were  pushed  back  with  some  loss  of  killed,  wounded,  and 
of  prisoners.  It  was  evident  from  the  report  brought  back 
that  there  was  a  force  strong  enough  at  least  to  manage  a 


364  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  [1864 

direct  assault  within  a  few  miles  to  the  south  of  our  lines. 
Even  this  incident  failed,  however,  to  impress  General 
Wright  as  serious. 

On  the  day  of  this  skirmish,  I  had  myself  secured  a 
permit  to  go  outside  of  our  picket  line  to  the  south.  I 
wanted  to  make  a  call  upon  a  family  with  which  I  had 
before  had  to  do,  that  occupied  the  miller's  cottage  of  a 
flour  mill  near  the  pike.  I  had  been  able  a  few  days 
before  to  prevent  the  burning  of  this  mill.  Up  to  that 
time  the  orders  under  which  we  were  acting  had  prohibited 
the  destruction  of  mills  or  any  other  property  without 
special  orders.  The  mill  had  been  set  on  fire  either  pur 
posely  or  through  heedlessness  by  some  stragglers  who  had 
been  camping  out  in  one  of  the  woodsheds.  I  was  able, 
by  calling  in  some  troops  within  reach,  to  get  the  fire 
under  control  and  to  have  the  stragglers  (who  were 
absent  from  their  camp  without  leave)  put  under  arrest. 
The  miller  was  absent  serving,  I  believe,  in  the  Confeder 
ate  army.  The  miller's  wife,  her  old  mother,  and  several 
children  were  in  the  house.  She  was  very  grateful  for  the 
service  and  said  that  if  I  might  ever  need  anything  which 
she  happened  to  have,  I  must  not  fail  to  call  upon  her. 

Such  a  need  came  up  on  this  sunshiny  October  morning. 
The  night  before  I  had  given  leave  of  absence  to  a  couple 
of  men  from  my  regiment  who  were  to  join  a  foraging 
party.  They  had  heard  that  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
camp  there  was  to  be  found  some  flour  and  some  honey 
and,  as  was  not  always  the  case  with  such  hopeful  rumours, 
the  flour  and  honey  did  exist  and  were  secured.  I  dare 
not  venture  to  believe  that  they  were  paid  for.  In  any 
case,  partly  as  a  matter  of  respect  to  regimental  head 
quarters  and  partly  as  recognition  for  the  adjutant's 
passes,  a  fair  share  of  the  flour  and  honey  was  placed  at 
the  disposal  of  the  major's  tent.  The  question  was  now 
how  to  do  the  cooking.  I  had  myself  mastered  the  art 


The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  365 

of  making  flapjacks,  but  our  headquarter 's  griddle  had 
disappeared,  and  a  bayonet  point  was  hardly  adequate 
to  supply  its  place.  My  errand  to  the  miller's  wife  was 
therefore  to  secure  the  loan  of  her  griddle.  My  walk 
along  the  pike  took  me  across  the  bridge  spanning  Cedar 
Creek  and  for  a  few  hundred  feet  by  a  bye-path  to  the 
mill.  The  griddle  was  very  cheerfully  put  at  my  disposal, 
with  the  caution  that  it  was  the  only  one  the  good  woman 
possessed,  and  was  in  constant  use  for  her  own  children. 
I  promised,  on  the  good  faith  of  a  Yankee,  that  she  should 
certainly  have  it  back  not  later  than  the  following  morn 
ing.  With  the  griddle  I  secured  a  loan  of  the  Life  of 
Patrick  Henry,  which  was,  I  think,  the  only  book  in  the 
house  other  than  the  Bible,  and  with  these  two  treasures  I 
made  my  way  back  to  camp.  I  was  followed  an  hour 
later  by  the  discomfited  reconnoissance  party  whose 
report  made  it  clear  that  there  must  be  no  further  wander 
ing  outside  of  our  picket  lines.  We  were  still,  however, 
unwilling  to  believe  that  this  unsatisfactory  skirmishing 
meant  any  more  than  some  reconnoitring  from  the  Rebel 
lines. 

Orders  came  to  my  tent  in  the  course  of  the  evening  to 
send  in  a  couple  of  companies  to  brigade  headquarters 
at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  for  a  renewed  reconnoissance 
in  larger  force.  This  advance  was,  however,  never  made 
as  larger  movements  took  its  place. 

The  evening  of  the  i8th  of  October  must,  I  judge,  have 
been  milder  in  its  temperature  than  some  of  the  autumn 
nights  that  had  preceded  it.  I  remember  lying  out  on 
the  turf  with  a  group  of  comrades,  studying,  under  the 
starlight,  the  effect  of  the  long  line  of  hills  on  the  east  in 
the  centre  of  which  towered  up  the  peak  of  Massanutton. 
It  must  have  been  about  ten  o'clock  (  I  know  that  taps 
had  sounded  some  little  time  before)  when  there  came 
from  one  of  the  upper  slopes  of  Massanutton  a  series  of 


366  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  [1864 

flash-lights  that  looked  for  the  moment  as  if  a  group  of 
shooting-stars  had  been  suspended  over  the  tree  tops. 
This  bit  of  the  ridge  was  as  visible  from  the  eastern  slope 
of  the  mountains  as  from  our  position  on  the  west.  The 
men  who,  unlike  myself,  had  had  to  do  with  the  oper 
ations  of  a  few  weeks  back,  remembered  that  Early's 
signal  corps  had  utilised  for  their  work  this  command 
ing  point  of  Massanutton.  "The  Rebs  are  signalling 
again,"  was  the  word,  and  to  those  of  us  who,  in  spite  of 
our  inexperience  in  "larger  strategy,"  were  giving  some 
thought  to  the  possibilities  of  the  campaign,  the  news  had 
significance.  A  mere  reconnoitring  party  or  skirmish  line 
of  a  rear-guard  would  have  had  no  requirement  to  send 
signals  over  the  hills  to  the  roads  on  the  east  of  the  valley. 
Such  signalling  could  only  mean,  first,  that  there  was  a 
force  of  some  importance  within  reach  of  our  lines  in  the 
valley,  and  secondly,  that  a  second  force  was  approaching 
from  the  east. 

These  thoughts  were  but  vague  guesses  on  the  part  of 
the  youngsters.  Our  commanders  must  also  of  course 
have  been  watching  the  signals,  but  their  actions  do  not 
seem  to  have  been  affected.  General  Crook,  who,  as 
before  stated,  commanded  the  troops  of  the  left  wing 
which  lay  up  against  the  slope  of  Massanutton,  took  no 
steps  to  strengthen  his  flanks  and,  as  the  later  records 
show,  did  not  even  give  any  special  word  of  caution  to  his 
pickets.  General  Wright  and  his  division  commanders 
appear  still  to  have  rested  on  the  confidence  that,  what 
ever  show  of  activity  Early  might  wish  to  keep  up,  there 
was  no  chance  that  the  troops  that  had  been  so  thoroughly 
discomfited  twice  within  thirty  days  could  be  meditating 
a  direct  attack  on  Sheridan's  army  placed  in  a  position  of 
its  own  selection.  We  lay  watching  the  signal  lights 
until  long  after  the  proper  sleeping  hour,  notwithstanding 
that  certain  of  the  men  with  me  were  ordered  to  be  under 


i864]  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  367 

arms  at  daybreak,  and  that  such  an  order  always  meant 
that  the  Adjutant  himself  must  be  on  hand  to  see  it 
carried  out.  Leaving  directions  to  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard  that  I  was  to  be  called  at  half -past  five,  I  finally 
turned  in  under  my  blanket.  The  sentries'  call  never 
came  and  was  not  needed.  The  waking  signal  was  given 
instead  by  the  rattle  of  musketry  from  the  slope  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  pike. 

The  battle  of  Cedar  Creek  was  one  of  the  many  actions 
in  the  war  the  advantages  in  which  shifted  sharply  during 
the  different  periods  of  the  fighting.  One  of  the  distinct 
ive  features  of  our  Civil  War  as  compared  with  other  wars 
of  modern  times  was  the  long  series  of  battles  which  were 
not  decided,  and  which  could  not  be  decided,  by  the  earlier 
movements,  battles  during  which  the  fortunes  varied  and 
were  even  reversed  during  a  time  not  only  of  one  day  but 
of  two  days,  three  days,  four  days,  and  (in  the  Wilderness) 
of  seven  days.  No  campaign  in  history  gives  such  exam 
ples  of  staying  power,  and  of  reviving  power  on  the  part 
of  the  men  who  fought.  The  "men  behind  the  guns," 
whether  they  wore  the  blue  or  the  grey,  were  not  satisfied 
to  accept  as  a  final  discomfiture  some  preliminary  dis 
aster  which  had  come  upon  them  because  of  a  disadvan 
tageous  position  or  through  the  blunder  of  their  own 
commander  or  the  genius  of  the  leader  of  the  other  side. 
It  often  seemed  to  them  possible,  and  it  often  proved  to  be 
possible,  to  recover  what  had  been  lost,  and  to  turn  a  defeat 
into  victory. 

Such  battles  as  Pittsburg  Landing,  Pea- Ridge,  Gettys 
burg,  and  many  others  showed  what  could  be  done  on  the 
second  day  with  troops  who  had  gotten  into  difficulties 
on  the  first.  In  all  these  battles,  however,  the  defeated 
fighters  had  had  a  night  in  which  to  think  it  over  and  in 
which  to  recover  their  spirits  and  their  fighting  power.  In 
these  instances  also,  while  the  men  who  had  in  the  first 


368  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  [1864 

place  been  beaten  were  sharers  in  the  final  victory,  they 
had  the  advantage  of  the  aid  of  certain  fresh  troops  who 
had  not  felt  the  first  discomfiture  and  who  were  to  con 
tribute  not  merely  fresh  muskets  but  untroubled  spirits. 
Cedar  Creek  is,  I  think,  the  only  action  of  importance 
during  the  war  (and  during  any  other  war  of  which  I  have 
record)  which,  having  been  lost  in  the  morning,  was  won 
in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  by  the  same  troops 
fighting  against  the  same  troops  and  with  no  advantage 
of  fresh  resources  of  men  or  of  guns.  The  Northern 
army  received  during  the  day  a  reinforcement  of  but  one 
man,  Sheridan,  but,  as  this  experience  showed,  a  man  like 
Sheridan,  put  into  action  at  a  critical  moment,  could  have 
the  value  of  an  army  corps. 

It  is  not  worth  while  in  this  memoir  to  undertake  to 
give  a  description  of  a  battle  which  was  so  complex  in  its 
events.  The  events  of  the  day  are  described  in  full  in 
Irwin's  History  of  the  Nineteenth  Army  Corps,  in  Ford's 
Shenandoah  Campaign,  and  in  Battles  and  Leaders  of  the 
Civil  War.  I  judge  that  there  belongs  to  my  narrative 
only  some  record  of  the  details  with  which  I  myself  had 
to  do  and  of  the  immediate  fortunes  of  my  regiment. 
Wakened,  as  stated,  by  the  near  sound  of  musketry,  a 
sound  which  came  not  from  straggling  picket  firing  but 
from  volleys,  and  gave  evidence  therefore  of  masses  of 
men,  I  tumbled  out  of  my  little  shelter  tent,  and  got  into 
my  equipments  in  a  very  few  minutes.  My  next  task 
was  to  help  guide  the  men,  some  of  whom,  more  or  less 
confused,  had  slipped  into  our  line  of  trenches,  a  line 
which,  as  before  explained,  faced  to  the  south  with  its  left 
extended  to  the  edge  of  the  slope  of  land  down  to  the  pike. 
There  was  a  heavy  morning  fog,  a  fog  so  dense  that  we 
could  see  but  a  few  feet  before  us.  We  peered  down 
the  slope  southward  towards  the  bridge  by  the  pike  across 
the  creek,  but  could  trace  neither  by  sight  nor  by  sound 


The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  369 

any  approach  from  the  only  direction  in  which  the  enemy 
could  properly  be  expected.  This  enterprising  enemy  was, 
however,  as  we  soon  realised,  not  behaving  in  any  proper 
or  expected  manner.  In  the  course  of  a  few  minutes, 
round  shot  came  bowling  into  our  line  of  intrenchment 
directly  from  the  eastern  slope  on  the  other  side  of  the  pike, 
a  position  which  was,  as  we  had  supposed,  controlled  by 
our  own  left  wing,  comprising  our  comrades  of  the  Eighth 
Corps.  Without  being  able  to  get  at  even  a  trustworthy 
guess  as  to  what  had  happened,  it  was  apparent  that  we 
were  facing  the  wrong  way.  The  attack  was  to  come  upon 
us  not  from  the  south  but  from  the  east. 

My  own  battalion  was  as  promptly  as  possible  gotten 
out  of  the  trenches  and  faced  to  the  left  on  the  crest  of 
the  slope,  and  within  twenty  or  thirty  minutes  the  rest 
of  the  brigade,  facing  to  the  rear,  had  made  its  way  into 
position  on  our  left  overlooking  the  line  of  the  pike.  The 
pike  itself  was  still  hidden  in  the  mass  of  fog  but  through 
the  fog  we  could  now  see  the  larger  flashes  of  the  field 
artillery  which  the  Rebel  advance  was  bringing  to  bear 
upon  our  position.  The  musketry  fire  had  for  the  time 
ceased.  It  was  evident  that  the  first  contest  to  the  east 
of  the  pike  had  been  decided  altogether  too  promptly 
and  that  our  men  had  been  driven  back  and  scattered. 

The  movement  executed  by  the  line  of  Macauley's 
Brigade,  which  constituted,  as  said,  the  extreme  left  of  the 
Nineteenth  Corps  and  of  the  line  to  the  west  of  the  pike, 
represented  on  a  small  scale  the  movement  that  General 
Wright  was  under  the  necessity  of  making  with  his  entire 
army.  The  line  of  his  position  extended  westward  for 
about  four  miles ;  the  troops  in  this  line  were  all,  as  far  as 
the  present  requirement  was  concerned,  facing  the  wrong 
way.  Wright's  task  was  to  face  his  army  to  the  rear  and 
to  execute  a  wheel  on  what  was  then  to  be  his  right 
flank.  For  a  moment,  a  moment  extending  possibly  to 


37°  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  [1864 

the  space  of  half  an  hour,  the  I76th  New  York  was  the 
pivot  of  this  wheeling  operation.  While  the  move 
ment  seems  simple  enough  as  stated,  and  was  one  which 
there  would  have  been  no  difficulty  in  executing  in  a 
drill-room  or  on  a  plain  with  a  battalion  brigade  or  di 
vision,  it  was  by  no  means  so  simple  a  matter  when  the 
troops  to  be  moved  constituted  two  army  corps  of  infan 
try,  a  partial  corps  of  cavalry,  and  a  full  complement  of 
field  artillery,  when  the  wheel  itself  had  to  be  executed 
across  ground  more  or  less  broken  by  hedge  and  by  ditch, 
and  when  further,  as  the  most  serious  consideration  of  all, 
the  pivot  on  which  the  wheel  was  to  be  based  was  con 
tinually  being  shot  away  and  driven  back. 

The  force  of  General  Early's  attack  was  directed  against 
this  pivot,  the  command  which  had  first  formed  the  left 
wing  but  which  through  this  wheel  to  the  rear  came  to  be 
the  right  wing  of  Wright's  army.  The  Rebel  divisions, 
led  by  Gordon  and  Kershaw,  outnumbered  very  consider 
ably  the  troops  that  were  at  first  opposed  to  them.  It 
was  therefore  only  a  question  of  time  as  to  when  we  should 
be  forced  back.  This  position  of  affairs,  while  easy  to 
analyse  now  with  the  full  evidence  of  the  day  on  record, 
was  of  course  by  no  means  well  understood  at  the  moment. 
The  men  of  the  Nineteenth  Corps  had,  to  be  sure,  gotten 
under  arms  before  the  attack  had  reached  their  position. 
They  were  still,  however,  confused  and  perplexed,  first,  at 
the  disappearance  of  the  troops  on  the  left  which  should 
have  protected  their  flank,  and  secondly,  at  the  direction 
of  the  attack  itself  which,  as  the  Rebel  advance  gained 
position  farther  to  the  north  on  the  pike,  came  not  only 
from  the  left  but  actually  from  the  rear.  Our  own  brigade 
was  for  the  time  under  fire  in  fact  from  three  directions,  and 
this  is  a  kind  of  fire  that  troops  find  it  very  difficult  to 
withstand.  There  was  the  further  embarrassment  that 
the  fog  continued  to  confuse  the  whole  position.  Towards 


The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  371 

seven  o'clock,  however,  the  fog  became  thinner  so  that 
the  line  of  the  pike  and  the  mass  of  slope  behind  came  into 
view.  As  the  fog  lifted,  the  strength  of  the  Rebel  attack 
became  evident.  The  troops  were  coming  across  the  pike 
in  masses,  and  were  so  sure  of  their  advance  that  they 
could  even  afford  in  part  to  disregard  the  portion  of  our 
line  that  was  most  immediately  to  be  reached,  and  to 
press  their  way  northward  with  the  view  of  occupying 
the  pike  and  of  cutting  off  the  retreat  of  our  division. 
Colonel  Macauley,  a  well-trained  soldier,  had  done  what 
he  could  to  get  his  brigade  into  fighting  shape  and  to  hold 
his  ground  until  the  position  of  the  division  should  be 
selected  and  fairly  occupied  its  portion  of  the  crest.  He 
had  to  assist  him  in  the  undertaking  a  field  battery 
comprising,  if  I  remember  rightly,  six  pieces.  The  guns 
were  probably  twelve-pounders.  These  had  been  placed 
a  hundred  feet  or  so  in  front  of  the  line  of  the  I76th 
and,  although  very  much  in  the  way  of  shot  coming 
from  the  other  side,  were  throwing  their  own  mis 
siles  into  the  fog,  guiding  the  range  as  nearly  as  might 
be  by  the  flashes  of  the  enemy's  guns.  When  the  Rebel 
infantry  line  got  its  musketry  to  bear,  the  position  of  the 
battery  became  untenable.  The  horses  were  killed  or 
disabled,  and  the  captain  in  charge  used  his  men  to  drag 
the  guns  back  within  the  shelter  (a  very  temporary  shelter) 
of  our  infantry  line.  One  gun  was,  however,  left  on  the 
slope,  and  in  the  haste  of  the  movement,  and  in  connection 
with  the  serious  damage  inflicted  by  the  enemy's  fire  on 
the  men  of  the  battery,  it  had  not  been  practicable  to  spike 
or  otherwise  disable  this  last  piece.  Colonel  Macauley, 
who  had  mounted  his  horse  not,  as  I  understood  later,  be 
cause  there  was  any  riding  to  be  done,  but  for  the  purpose 
of  getting  a  wider  range  of  view,  called  from  behind  the 
centre  of  the  line  for  volunteers  to  drag  in  this  gun.  I 
was  probably  the  officer  who  was  nearest  in  line  to  it  and 


372  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  [1864 

with  a  group  of  men,  possibly  fifteen  or  eighteen,  who 
hurriedly  came  together  for  the  purpose,  I  dashed  out 
across  the  space  to  get  the  gun  back.  As  we  moved  for 
ward,  the  slope  between  us  and  the  road  was  suddenly 
covered  by  the  lines  of  men  in  butternut.  By  the  time 
we  reached  the  piece  there  were  not  enough  men  left  to 
perform  the  task  of  dragging  it  across  the  rough  ground 
to  the  rear.  I  do  not  know  what  may  be  the  weight  of  a 
twelve-pounder  with  its  carriage,  but  I  do  know  that 
under  the  conditions  eight  or  ten  men  could  not  manage  it. 

As  I  learned  later,  Macauley  was  shot  through  his  chest 
just  after  giving  the  order  about  the  gun.  The  colonel 
next  in  command,  seeing  that  the  thin  line  of  the  brigade 
was  liable  to  be  cut  of!  by  the  advance  of  the  "Rebs" 
northward,  gave  the  order  to  fall  back  just  about  the  time 
that  my  little  group  was  falling  forward;  It  was  for  us  an 
unfortunate  combination  of  circumstances.  The  first 
files  of  the  butternut  line  had  cut  across  our  route  of 
retreat  and  a  second  line  in  larger  masses  was  coming  up 
from  the  back.  The  slope  itself  was  for  a  few  moments 
peppered  most  uncomfortably  with  shots  from  either  side. 
I  ordered  the  men  to  lie  down,  an  order  for  which  there 
was  hardly  necessity  because  the  lying  down  was  done 
instinctively.  We  had  still  a  faint  hope  that  the  rest  of 
the  division  remaining  to  defend  the  line  of  our  brigade, 
might  retake  the  position,  but  the  hope  proved  delusive. 
I  remember  having  a  feeling  as  I  lay  face  downward  on  the 
turf  that  I  must  be  about  the  size  of  an  elephant.  It 
seemed  in  connection  with  the  peppering  of  the  balls 
against  the  little  ledge  occupied  that  one  could  not  possibly 
escape  being  hit.  I  felt  a  keen  desire  to  be  as  thin  as  the 
knave  of  spades. 

In  a  few  minutes,  however,  the  fire  slackened.  Our  men 
were  too  far  back  to  reach  the  slope  and  the  second  line  of 
"Rebs"  reserved  their  fire  for  fear  of  hurting  their  own 


1864]  The  Battle  of  Cedar  Creek  373 

men.  I  took  my  sword  from  the  belt  and  hid  it  in  a  cleft 
of  the  rocks.  I  also  half  mechanically  (I  certainly  had  not 
thought  out  the  matter  with  any  definiteness)  took  the 
cylinder  out  of  my  Remington  revolver  and,  tossing  it 
away,  placed  the  revolver  itself  back  in  my  belt.  It  was 
a  presentation  sword  bearing,  in  addition  to  my  own 
name,  the  names  of  the  company  officers  of  my  regiment, 
and  I  have  been  hoping  since  the  war  that  some  impecuni 
ous  Southerner  might  be  interested,  for  a  proper  consider 
ation,  in  looking  up  the  owner ;  but  fifty  years  have  passed 
and  I  have  had  no  tidings  of  it. 

Within  a  very  few  minutes  after  the  cessation  of  the 
fire,  the  second  line  of  the  enemy  ran  over  us.  We  were 
promptly  disarmed,  and  were  relieved  not  only  of  weapons 
but  of  certain  portions  of  our  equipment  which  the  Rebels 
thought  we  could  spare  and  which  doubtless  they  needed, 
such  as  overcoats,  rubber  blankets,  and  the  contents  of  our 
pockets,  particularly  greenbacks.  The  first  man  who  ran 
up  to  me  put  his  hand  upon  the  pistol.  It  was  of  course 
proper  enough  that  I  should  be  disarmed  and  pistols 
had  value  for  the  Confederacy.  He  drew  the  pistol  from 
the  holster  and  as  long  as  he  held  it  frontwards,  looked 
satisfied  enough  with  his  acquisition.  In  turning  it  side 
ways,  however,  he  saw  the  hole  where  the  cylinder  ought 
to  have  been  and  then  he  was  a  very  mad  "Reb"  indeed. 
Bringing  up  his  musket  with  a  well-emphasised  threat,  he 
told  the  "damned  Yankee"  to  find  that  cylinder  or  he 
might  lose  his  "damned  Yankee  brains. "  I  could  not  have 
found  the  cylinder  if  I  had  wanted  to,  and  naturally  I  did 
not  want  to  very  much.  The  man  had  evidently  captured 
some  whiskey  before  he  got  hold  of  me  and  he  was  drunk 
enough  to  be  dangerous.  Fortunately  for  me,  one  of  his 
officers  was  within  reach.  The  musket  was  promptly 
struck  down  and  its  owner  sent  to  the  front  where  he 
belonged,  and  I  was  put  into  line  with  some  five  or  six 


374  Taken  Prisoner  [1864 

hundred  other  prisoners  who  had  been  gathered  in  mainly 
from  the  commands  of  the  scattered  Eighth  Corps. 

When  the  first  onset  was  substantially  completed,  and 
the  lines  of  the  Eighth  and  Nineteenth  Corps  had  been 
occupied  by  the  Rebels  as  our  men  fell  back,  the  prisoners 
were  mustered  together  and  were  ordered  to  stand  in  a 
long  line  for  the  purpose  of  being  relieved  of  certain 
property  held  to  be  unfitting  for  prisoners.  The  articles 
so  classed  comprised  the  overcoat,  the  woollen  blanket, 
the  rubber  blanket,  all  moneys,  and  the  pocket  knife. 
Some  of  the  older  hands,  who  had  had  previous  experi 
ence  as  prisoners  or  who  knew  by  the  experience  of 
others,  were  wise  enough  before  their  turn  came  in  the 
search  to  stow  away  their  money  within  their  innermost 
garment,  I  had  myself  some  three  months'  pay  which  I 
could  ill  afford  to  lose.  It  was,  I  think,  about  three 
hundred  dollars.  In  advance  of  any  thought  of  capture, 
I  had  placed  the  money  in  an  inner  pocket  of  my  shirt, 
saving  only  a  few  dollars  for  the  pocketbook.  The  latter 
was  promptly  appropriated,  but  the  inner  pocket  re 
mained  undiscovered  until  a  week  later  when  it  was 
emptied  of  its  contents  under  the  more  thorough 
ransacking  of  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  at  Libby. 

The  most  serious  requirement  of  our  captors  was  for 
shoes.  I  do  not  think  that  the  Rebels  had  the  idea  of 
putting  upon  their  prisoners  any  unnecessary  harshness 
or  annoyance.  They  were,  however,  at  this  time  very 
much  in  need  of  all  the  necessities  of  life  and  for  campaign 
ing  purposes  shoes  were  particularly  important.  In  any 
case,  the  officers  in  charge  of  the  business  ordered  the 
"Yankees  "  to  kick  off  their  shoes,  and  these  were  promptly 
appropriated  by  the  Rebel  soldiers  of  equivalent  size.  In 
certain  cases  the  battered  and  largely  worn  out  shoes 
of  the  "Rebs"  were  thrown  over  in  place  of  the  articles 
appropriated.  Those  of  us  who  had  been  campaigning 


1864]  Taken  Prisoner  375 

for  any  length  of  time  in  the  valley  realised  that  we  had  a 
long  march  before  us.  I  did  not  myself  like  to  think  of 
making  this  march  barefoot  or  in  shoes  that  did  not  fit. 
Before  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  reached  my  point  in  the 
line  and  before,  therefore,  my  pockets  had  been  emptied,  I 
used  my  pocket  knife  to  slash  the  upper  leathers  of  my 
shoes,  taking  care  not  to  break  the  uppers  so  far  that 
the  shoes  should  not  hold  together.  The  shoes  looked 
so  very  unpromising  for  campaigning  purposes  that  when 
they  were  reached  in  the  examination  the  sergeant  decided 
that  they  were  not  worth  the  trouble  of  appropriating.  I 
had  therefore  the  satisfaction  of  walking  up  the  valley  on 
my  own  shoe  leathers  and  the  shoes  held  together  in  fact 
for  some  weeks  after  I  reached  Richmond.  One  of  my 
comrades  in  the  line  was  still  more  fortunate  as  he  suc 
ceeded  in  preserving  his  shoes  intact,  and  it  was,  I  think, 
the  only  pair  (with  the  exception  of  those  worn  by  the  gen 
eral  officers  who  were  not  thus  intruded  upon)  that  was 
preserved  through  the  prison  winter.  The  comrade  in 
question  was  an  officer  on  the  staff  of  General  Russell's 
division  in  the  Sixth  Corps.  His  name  was  Vander  Weyde. 
He  told  me  that  he  had  been  ordered  by  his  division  com 
mander  to  ride  over  to  the  left  of  the  line  of  the  Nineteenth 
Corps  and  to  order  the  withdrawal  of  the  brigade  to  which 
my  regiment  belonged.  He  rode  too  far,  because  at  the 
time  he  got  to  the  left  of  the  line  our  men  had  already 
fallen  back.  As  a  result  he  was  giving  orders  in  the  mist 
to  men  who  belonged  as  he  supposed  to  Macauley's 
command,  but  who  were  as  a  fact  the  first  files  of  the 
Rebels'  advance.  They  said  "All  right"  to  the  orders, 
and  to  make  sure  that  there  was  no  confusion  in  the  matter 
they  took  possession  of  the  staff  officer.  My  friend's 
feet  were  small  and  as  his  duties  had  been  mainly  cared 
for  on  horseback,  he  had  indulged  himself  in  the  luxury  of 
patent-leather  boots.  Concerning  these  boots  he  had 


376  The  March  of  the  Prisoners  [1864 

had  to  stand  a  certain  amount  of  chaffing  from  his  fellow- 
officers,  chaffing  that  he  had  taken  good-naturedly  enough. 
He  was  standing  next  to  me  in  the  line  of  prisoners  and  I 
saw  these  same  patent-leather  boots  taken  from  him  by 
three  different  Confederates  in  succession,  no  one  of  whom 
was  able  to  get  them  on.  The  last  man  gave  up  the  task 
as  hopeless  and  chucked  back  the  boots  with  some  such 
word  as,  "You  can  keep  your  boots,  you  little  Yankee 
dude!  Much  good  may  they  do  you";  and  much  good 
they  did  do  him  through  the  long  winter  in  which  most  of 
us  became  barefoot. 

We  passed  the  long  waiting  hours  as  best  we  could;  some 
of  us  who  did  not  know  any  better,  wondering  when  the 
signal  for  dinner  was  coming.  Most  of  us  had  begun  the 
day's  work  in  the  morning  without  any  breakfast,  and 
we  were  pretty  nearly  exhausted  by  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  when  the  order  came  to  "fall  in,  column  of 
four,"  and  our  column  began  its  weary  march  across  the 
bridge  at  Cedar  Creek  and  southward  along  the  pike. 
We  should  have  felt  less  discouraged  if  we  could  have 
known  what  was  happening  at  this  time  six  miles  to  the 
north.  Just  about  the  hour  when  the  column  of  prisoners 
started  its  tramp  on  the  pike,  the  advance  lines  of  Early's 
army  led  by  Kershaw  and  Gordon  were  being  repulsed 
by  Wright's  men  in  position  across  the  pike  at  Middletown 
and  a  little  later  came  the  unexpected  onset  of  these 
same  men  with  Sheridan  at  their  head,  sweeping  across 
the  fields  that  had  witnessed  their  discomfiture  through 
the  first  half  of  the  day. 

The  fighting  at  this  hour  was,  however,  too  far  north 
to  enable  the  prisoners  to  gain  any  trustworthy  under 
standing  as  to  the  way  that  it  was  going.  We  had  no 
reason  to  hope  that  our  friends  who  had  been  driven  so 
thoroughly  from  their  positions  would  be  able  to  pull  them 
selves  together  again  in  time  for  an  advance  southward 


i864]  The  March  of  the  Prisoners  377 

during  the  day.  We  did  have  good  hopes  that  the 
morrow  would  bring  better  tidings.  We  were  at  the  same 
time  interested  in  noting  a  certain  urgency  on  the  part 
of  our  guards  in  getting  us  started  southwards.  We 
noted  also  that  the  column  of  prisoners  was  being  followed 
by  increasing  groups  of  stragglers  and  also  by  waggon 
trains  and  by  the  pieces  of  artillery  that  had  been  captured 
early  in  the  day  on  the  left  of  the  line.  We  were  some 
what  puzzled  why  this  artillery  should  be  moving  south 
ward  if  Early  intended  to  hold  his  position.  My  own 
station  in  the  column  was  near  the  rear  end  where  I  found 
myself  in  company  with  the  staff  officer  of  the  patent- 
leather  boots.  I  had  known  him  but  slightly  before  the 
occurrences  of  this  day,  but  our  association  at  the  close  of 
the  battle  and  during  the  march  brought  us  into  such 
closer  relationship  that  we  became  chums  and  remained 
so  during  the  long  months  of  the  winter. 

Crossing  the  bridge  (which  was  to  become  famous  an  hour 
or  two  later  through  its  breakdown  with  consequences 
so  serious  to  General  Early  in  the  loss  of  his  captured  guns 
and  waggons),  we  passed  the  mill  house  where  the  day 
before  I  had  procured  the  loan  of  the  griddle.  The  good 
woman  was  standing  with  her  two  children  in  front  of  the 
cottage  and  I  threw  over  to  her  a  word  of  greeting.  She 
was  able  to  understand  the  several  reasons  why  the 
Yankee  officer  had  not  kept  his  word  about  that  griddle. 
She  told  me  that  through  the  earlier  hours  of  the  day  she 
kept  her  children  in  the  cellar  of  the  mill.  She  was  quite 
sympathetic  at  my  trouble  in  being  a  prisoner,  but  we  were 
hurried  past  and  there  was  no  time  for  further  words. 
The  further  word  was  probably  not  important,  but  I  should 
have  been  well  pleased  to  have  had  another  minute  which 
would  doubtless  have  brought  into  my  hands  something 
in  the  shape  of  food. 

The  record  of  the  battle  of  Cedar  Creek  is  in  print  in  a 


378          The  Death  of  General  Lowell          [1864 

number  of  war  histories  and  documents  and  there 
would  be  no  service  in  repeating  here  my  impressions 
of  the  causes  of  the  morning's  defeat  or  of  the  after 
noon's  victory.  I  may  refer,  however,  to  the  incident 
of  the  Cedar  Creek  bridge  which  played  so  important  a 
part  in  the  completeness  of  General  Sheridan's  triumph. 
Early  in  the  afternoon,  General  Lowell  was  bringing  his 
division  of  cavalry  from  its  earlier  position  on  the  right 
of  the  line  to  aid  in  the  recovery  of  the  Middletown  pike. 
His  main  purpose  was  accomplished.  He  got  his  cavalry 
placed  across  the  pike  and  succeeded  in  holding  an 
important  position  well  to  the  east  of  the  pike  until 
the  cavalry  carbines  could  be  reinforced  with  some 
infantry  from  the  left  of  the  Sixth  Corps.  It  was  while 
he  was  absorbed  in  this  fight  in  which  for  a  time  his  little 
command  was  outflanked  that  he  himself  received  his 
death  wound.  A  portion  of  his  cavalry  division  which 
had  been  farther  to  the  west  had  been  cut  off  and  had  not 
been  able  to  get  back  into  position  with  the  line  of  the 
army  at  Middletown.  Some  of  the  troopers  made  a 
detour  to  the  west  and  north  and  came  in  later  in  the  day 
to  join  in  the  pursuit.  .The  others  thought  that  they 
would  have  a  better  chance  of  getting  back  into  our  lines 
or  at  least  of  escaping  capture  (for  a  considerable  force 
of  the  Rebel  infantry  was  now  between  them  and  Wright's 
army)  by  working  southward  to  the  pike  and  then  getting 
north  on  the  east  side  of  the  pike.  They  got  to  the  south 
of  Cedar  Creek  and  found  that  their  path  northward  on  the 
east  was  blocked.  They  made  position  for  themselves  in 
a  copse  just  beyond  a  curve  of  the  road  south  of  the 
bridge,  and  waited  there  for  something  to  turn  up  that 
should  open  a  way  for  their  retreat  northwards.  The 
lieutenant  in  charge  of  the  party  (I  do  not  now  recall  how 
many  men  were  with  him)  had  picked  up  somewhere  in 
the  march  an  infantry  brigade  flag.  They  had  not  been 


1864]  The  Blocking  of  the  Bridge  379 

in  their  position  very  long  before  Early's  quartermasters 
began  to  bring  back  over  Cedar  Creek  the  captured  wag 
gon  trains  which  were,  as  stated,  seen  to  be  followed  by 
the  captured  artillery.  The  cavalrymen  saw  their  oppor 
tunity.  Early's  troops  were  well  to  the  north  of  them 
and  the  teamsters  could,  they  believed,  be  stampeded. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  concealing  themselves,  as  had  been 
their  first  thought,  they  put  up  the  infantry  brigade  flag 
and  opened  fire  at  the  mules  which  were  on  the  bridge. 
They  had  breech-loading  carbines  which  were  during 
that  autumn  beginning  to  be  issued  to  the  cavalry  and 
they  were,  therefore,  able  to  keep  up  a  pretty  persistent 
peppering.  The  killing  of  a  few  mules  brought  the  waggons 
to  a  halt  and  the  bridge  was  blocked.  The  blocking  of 
the  bridge,  the  sound  of  the  musketry,  and  the  word  passed 
hurriedly  back  by  the  teamsters  who  were  nearest  to  the 
front,  that  the  Yankees  were  to  the  south  of  the  bridge 
and  were  cutting  off  their  retreat  with  infantry,  threw 
panic  among  the  whole  column  of  teamsters  along  the 
road.  The  waggons  were  at  first  hurried  upon  the  bridge 
before  it  was  known  that  the  bridge  was  blocked  by  the 
dead  mules  and  by  the  first  two  or  three  of  the  waggons. 
The  result  of  the  crowding  of  the  bridge  was  a  breakdown. 
The  further  result  was  the  scattering  of  the  teamsters  to 
the  left  and  right  into  the  fields  and  woods,  the  waggons 
being  left  in  the  road  and  making  this  impassable  for 
organised  infantry.  The  creek  was  shallow  enough  to  be 
waded  without  difficulty;  but  the  banks  were  steep  and 
nothing  mounted  could  get  across  and  certainly  nothing 
in  the  shape  of  a  waggon.  Later  in  the  day,  as  Early 
began  to  move  his  tired  men  southward  from  the  field 
from  which  they  were  now  being  driven  by  Sheridan's 
repeated  onsets,  the  retreating  troops  were  met  with  the 
discouraging  news  that  the  road  was  blocked  and  that  the 
Yankees  were  to  the  south.  Giving  up  the  thought  of 


380  The  Panic  of  the  Teamsters  [1864 

keeping  in  line,  the  troops  followed  the  example  of  the 
teamsters.  They  scattered  to  the  right  and  left,  making 
their  way  across  the  creek  but  without  any  further 
attempt  at  maintaining  an  organised  column.  Our 
troops  that  were  pressing  the  pursuit  did  not  realise  until 
later  what  it  was  that  had  suddenly  slackened  the  defence 
and  thrown  terror  into  their  opponents.  The  broken 
bridge,  the  blocked  road,  and  the  panic-stricken  cry 
"Yankees  to  the  south  of  us!"  had  not  a  little  to  do  with 
the  collapse  of  the  opposition  to  Sheridan's  final  attack, 
an  attack  which  was  itself  checked  only  by  the  quick 
darkness  of  an  October  evening.  The  result  of  the  plucky 
action  of  the  cavalrymen  was  to  leave  in  the  hands  of 
Sheridan  not  only  all  the  waggons  and  guns  that  had  been 
captured  or  abandoned  earlier  in  the  day,  but  every  gun 
Early  had  himself  brought  north  of  Cedar  ^Creek.  The 
Rebel  infantry,  swarming  across  the  creek,  finally  got 
possession  of  the  road  to  the  south  of  the  bridge.  Our 
cavalry  scattered  and  was,  I  believe,  for  the  most  part 
captured,  but  their  service  had  been  done. 

I  should  have  mentioned  that  just  before  our  column 
crossed  the  bridge  I  had  a  glimpse  of  a  red-faced  man  who 
had  lost  his  hat  and  who  seemed  to  be  in  a  considerable 
state  of  excitement,  excitement  which  was  being  expressed 
pretty  freely  and  in  a  string  of  xmths.  One  of  my  guards 
said,  "Why,  there  is  the  General."  It  was  Early.  He 
had  reason  for  excitement.  For  the  second  time  within 
the  year  an  opportunity  for  a  great  success  had  been  in  his 
hands  and  just  escaped  him.  The  bitter  regret  of  failing 
to  get  into  Washington  in  June  could  only  have  been 
paralleled  by  the  great  disappointment  of  failing  to  main 
tain  with  Sheridan  the  really  brilliant  victory  he  had  won 
over  Wright.  The  plan  had  been  most  ingenious  and  the 
execution  in  the  first  portion  of  the  work  was  certainly 
plucky  and  effective.  It  would  seem  now,  however,  in 


1864]  Final  Defeat  of  Early  381 

looking  back  over  the  records,  that  Early  had  attempted 
the  impossible.  Even  before  Sheridan  had  retaken  the 
leadership  of  his  army,  Early's  onset  was  stayed.  His 
men  were  exhausted;  they  had  had  but  little  sleep  during 
the  night  and  they  had  been  righting  and  marching  since 
daybreak.  They  had  done  all  that  men  could  do  and  their 
effort  was  spent.  Early's  partial  success  had  been  due 
mainly  to  the  surprise.  With  the  conditions  fairly  under 
stood,  the  veterans  of  Sheridan's  army  could  not  be  really 
beaten  by  men  inferior  in  numbers  to  themselves,  men  who 
were  so  largely  the  same  that  had  themselves,  within  a  few 
weeks'  time,  been  thoroughly  beaten  at  Winchester  and 
at  Fisher's  Hill. 


XVII 
A  Prisoner  in  Virginia  x 

r  I  'HE  fall  of  night  brought  no  check  to  our  march.  We 
understood  later  why  it  was  that  this  march  was 
being  pressed  so  rapidly.  Sheridan  had  sent  such 
of  his  cavalry  as  were  still  available  to  pursue  the  column 
with  the  hope  of  recovering  the  prisoners.  Tired  as  our 
guards  were  and  exhausted  as  were  the  prisoners  them 
selves,  it  proved  possible  to  keep  up  the  march  with  such 
persistency  that  the  cavalry,  whose  horses  were  themselves 
jaded  enough,  could  not  overtake  us.  I  think  that  every 
two  hours  or  so  there  was  a  halt  of  a  few  minutes  such 
as  was  absolutely  necessary  to  provide  breathing  facilities. 
At  one  of  these  halts,  we  had  handed  out  to  us  some  corn 
meal  and  we  were  told  that  we  could  take  time  to  cook  it 
over  wayside  fires.  The  cooking  under  the  circumstances 
was  difficult  and  inadequate  and  the  result  was  not  much 
more  than  a  lukewarm  paste.  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  get  a  mouthful  or  two  of  something  more  substantial. 
The  brigade  dog  which  had  been  attached  to  Colonel 
Macauley's  headquarters  had  managed  in  some  way  to 
be  included  in  the  group  of  prisoners.  One  of  our  men 

TIn  1912,  I  brought  into  print,  under  the  instructions  of  the  New  York 
Commandery  of  the  Loyal  Legion,  a  volume  giving,  under  the  title  of 
A  Prisoner  in  Virginia,  a  fuller  record  of  my  experiences  during  the  winter 
of  1864-65. 

382 


1864]  The  Brigade  Dog  383 

(probably  not  belonging  to  the  headquarters  staff) 
decided  that  it  would  be  a  pity  for  the  poor  dog  to  have  a 
winter  in  prison  and,  to  save  the  dog  from  that  misfortune, 
he  mercifully  killed  him  with  a  bayonet  borrowed  from 
the  guard.  At  one  of  the  halts,  time  enough  was  secured 
for  the  hasty  broiling  of  the  dog  and  one  of  the  chunks 
came  to  my  share.  Without  this  I  do  not  quite  see  how  I 
could  have  gotten  through  the  night.  At  about  mid 
night,  we  were  halted  in  an  open  field  close  to  the  road, 
in  a  region  of  which  I  found  I  had  some  knowledge.  My 
chum  Vander  Weyde  whispered  to  me  as  we  lay  against 
the  road  bank :  "  I  have  a  girl  in  a  farm-house  a  field  or  two 
farther  north  who  would  be  glad  to  be  of  service  to  me. 
I  got  word  to  her  in  the  course  of  the  day  that  I  might  slip 
in  there  at  night."  It  seemed  he  had  been  of  some  service 
to  the  family  in  the  farm-house  and  had  had  some  con 
versation  with  the  daughter  of  the  house  and  he  had 
promised  to  befriend  her,  and  she  had  answered  that  per 
haps  the  opportunity  for  friendly  service  might  come  the 
other  way.  He  suggested  that  we  should  make  a  dash 
across  the  line  of  the  guards,  hiding  in  a  ditch  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  field  until  the  column  of  prisoners  had 
passed.  We  could  then  steal  back  along  the  edge  of  the 
road  until  we  reached  the  farm  road  that  he  knew,  and  on 
the  farm  he  thought  that  we  could  be  stowed  away  in  an 
outhouse  and  await  further  chances.  The  night  was 
pretty  dark  and  there  was  no  special  risk  in  drawing  the 
fire  of  the  guards.  The  real  difficulty  would  have  been 
in  working  across  the  fields  in  the  dark,  and  it  was  for  that 
reason  that  we  had  planned  to  lie  in  the  ditch.  The  first 
part  of  the  scheme  was  successfully  carried  out.  We  got 
close  behind  the  back  of  one  of  the  guards  so  as  to  be  as 
distant  as  possible  from  the  attention  of  the  next  guard  in 
line.  On  a  whispered  signal,  we  then  made  a  jump  for  the 
edge  of  the  road  and  a  skip  over  the  first  ditch.  Two  or 


384  A  Dash  for  Liberty  [1864 

three  muskets  were  fired  but  with  no  possibility  of  aim. 
Stealing  across  the  field  until  we  were  well  out  from  the 
road,  we  dropped  into  the  second  ditch  with  the  idea  of 
waiting  until  the  noise  of  the  tramping  on  the  road  should 
have  ceased.  The  second  ditch  unfortunately  had  a 
little  water  in  the  bottom,  but  having  once  tumbled  in,  it 
did  not  seem  wise  for  us  to  make  any  further  motion. 
We  were  near  enough  to  the  road  to  hear  the  tramp, 
tramp  of  the  column  and  the  muttered  talk  of  the  men, 
prisoners  and  guards.  We  were  puzzled,  after  waiting 
half  an  hour  or  so,  that  the  tramp  still  continued.  We 
knew  that  we  had  ourselves  been  close  to  the  rear  of  the 
column  of  prisoners  and  we  could  not  understand  what 
other  men  were  doing  in  the  road  at  midnight.  Finally 
the  thought  came  to  us  that  Early 's  army  was  retreating, 
that,  notwithstanding  the  disaster  that  we  had  witnessed, 
there  must  still  have  been  something  in  the  shape  of 
victory  before  the  close  of  the  day.  It  was  sad  for  our 
immediate  fortunes  that  the  victory  had  been  as  complete 
as  it  was.  Early's  men  were  so  much  in  a  hurry  to  get 
away  from  Cedar  Creek  that  many  of  them  could  not  wait 
for  the  road  to  be  cleared  but  did  their  retreating  on  the 
fields  to  the  right  and  to  the  left.  One  of  these  field 
squads  managed,  the  men  being  pretty  well  asleep,  to  tum 
ble  into  our  ditch  on  top  of  my  friend  and  myself.  They 
said  things,  and  so  did  we,  but  they  managed  to  wake  up 
enough  to  understand  the  position.1  We  were  dragged 
out,  muddy  as  we  were,  from  the  bottom  of  the  ditch  and 
were  pushed  back  on  to  the  road  and  handed  along  from 
one  group  of  guards  and  retreating  troops  to  another 
until  finally,  late  in  the  night,  place  was  again  made  for  us 
at  the  tail  end  of  the  column  of  prisoners.  We  were 
then  too  far  south  and  road  and  fields  were  too  full  of 

xOur  state  of  mind  was  like  that  of  South  Carolina  three  years  earlier: 
we  only  wanted  to  be  left  alone.     But  that  privilege  was  not  granted  to  us. 


i864]  A  Night  March  385 

retreating   Rebels   to  make   possible  any  further  dashes 
for  liberty. 

The  remaining  hours  of  the  night  were  spent  as  in  a 
fatiguing  dream.  The  prisoners,  while  still  marching,  were 
really  asleep,  and  the  guards,  no  less  weary,  managed  to 
keep  their  feet  moving  while  their  eyes  were  shut.  By 
daybreak  we  were  allowed  a  little  longer  interval  for  a 
snooze,  not  I  imagine  out  of  personal  consideration  for  our 
fatigue,  but  because  the  guards  actually  refused  to  go 
farther  without  rest.  For  two  or  three  days  and  nights, 
the  routine  was  still  tramp,  tramp  along  the  road  which 
even  in  the  frostiness  of  October  threw  up  clouds  of  dust 
from  the  many  weary  feet.  Finally  in  the  clear  sunshine 
of  the  early  morning,  the  dusty  column  filed  into  the  town 
of  Staunton,  which  marked  the  south-western  corner  of 
the  valley.  The  prisoners  were  huddled  into  an  open 
space,  a  kind  of  village  common,  in  front  of  the  old  town 
inn,  and  with  the  exception  of  a  line  of  sentries  which 
encircled  the  common,  the  remaining  guards  were  marched 
off  to  barracks  for  rest  and  rations.  The  officers  went 
into  the  inn  for  their  breakfast  and  through  the  windows 
came  the  attractive  clatter  of  knives  and  forks  and  the 
entrancing  odour  of  fried  ham.  The  prisoners  alone  seemed 
to  be  forgotten  in  this  matter  of  breakfast.  We  had  had 
just  enough  corn  meal  (supplied  in  the  form  of  heated 
paste)  to  keep  us  going  through  the  long  hours  of  the 
march,  but  it  seemed  that  if  nothing  more  substantial 
could  be  provided  there  was  no  more  marching  possible. 
Finally,  when  his  own  breakfast  had  been  satisfactorily 
completed,  the  commissary  of  the  guards  came  to  the 
little  front  piazza  of  the  hotel,  followed  by  half  a  dozen 
darkies  carrying  boxes  of  hard-tack.  We  could  recognise 
from  the  marking  that  these  boxes  had  been  taken 
from  our  own  commissary  waggons.  The  boxes  were, 
under  the  orders  of  the  commissary,  thrown  from 
25 


386  Scramble  for  Breakfast  [1864 

the  piazza  into  the  common  below  with  the  apparent 
expectation  that  the  prisoners  were  hungry  enough  to 
scramble  for  the  biscuit.  The  performance  was  undigni 
fied  enough  and  was  unworthy  of  any  officer  who  pre 
tended  to  be  a  gentleman.  Fortunately,  however,  some 
discipline  was  preserved  by  our  own  little  group  of  officers 
over  the  files  of  the  prisoners.  They  were  not  permitted 
to  break  into  a  mob  for  the  sake  of  getting  the  biscuit. 
One  of  our  sergeants  was  detailed  to  act  as  commissary 
and  the  biscuit  was  divided  as  best  as  could  be  done. 
Then  there  was  another  weary  wait  of  some  hours  be 
fore  the  train  was  in  readiness  which  was  to  take  us  to 
Richmond. 

We  were  crowded  into  box  cars  (preferable  to  the  open 
freight  cars  for  the  carrying  of  prisoners,  because  the 
guarding  was  easier)  and  the  train  moved  off  at  the  pace 
of  a  "slow  freight."  One  of  the  side  doors  was  left  open 
for  ventilation,  and  in  the  doorway  sat  two  guards  with 
their  muskets  across  their  knees.  Other  guards,  we  could 
not  see  quite  how  many,  sat  on  the  tops  of  the  cars  and 
moved  across  as  they  wished  from  time  to  time,  the  speed 
of  the  train  never  being  so  great  as  to  make  the  crossing 
dangerous.  Excepting  that  we  were  hungry  and  before 
many  hours  thirsty,  the  trip  was  not  in  itself  disagreeable. 
It  was  something  to  have  gotten  through  with  the  tramp 
ing,  and  we  were  weary  enough  to  take  long  dozes  on  the 
hard  floor  of  the  car.  I  remember  waking  up  to  see  one 
humorous  little  tragedy.  One  of  the  guards  sitting  in  our 
open  doorway  was  a  youngster  from  the  mountains  whose 
training  as  a  soldier  was  evidently  just  beginning.  As  the 
train  passed  over  a  deep  ravine  or  cutting  he  was  dozing 
and  probably  thinking  of  home.  One  of  our  men  saw  his 
opportunity,  and,  giving  a  jolt  at  the  proper  moment  to  the 
drowsy  soldier,  tipped  his  musket  out  into  space  a  hund 
red  feet  or  more  below.  The  Confederacy  was  short  one 


1864]  A  Gun  Overboard  387 

piece.  The  boy  waked  up  with  a  start  and  began  crying 
with  the  dread  of  trouble  later  with  his  sergeant.  "Never 
mind,  it  will  be  all  right, "  said  our  man,  in  sympathy  that 
his  joke  had  been  played  upon  a  youngster,  and  sure 
enough  he  succeeded,  a  little  later,  in  stealing  a  gun  from 
one  of  the  other  guards.  I  believe  the  boy  escaped 
punishment. 

We  reached  Richmond  in  the  late  hours  of  the  evening; 
it  was  too  dark  as  we  marched  through  the  town  to  get 
more  than  an  impression  of  the  looks  of  the  street  or 
of  the  people.  On  arriving  at  the  building  which  still 
bore  the  sign  of  "James  Libby  &  Son,  Ship  Chandlers,"  we 
were  made  to  enter  in  single  file  in  order  that  the  record 
ing  sergeant  could  more  conveniently  take  the  name,  rank, 
and  description  of  each  of  his  "guests."  We  were  then 
taken  to  the  examination  room,  where  we  were  very 
thoroughly  searched  for  articles  contraband  of  war.  As 
before  stated,  we  had  been  relieved  on  the  battle-field,  or 
shortly  after  leaving  the  field,  of  those  portions  of  our 
equipment  that  were  needed  by  our  captors — that  is  to  say, 
of  our  overcoats,  blankets,  and  shoes,  together  with  such 
money  as  was  available  in  the  pockets.  The  older 
soldiers  had,  in  accordance  with  the  usual  routine,  in  the 
cases  in  which  they  had  any  money  in  stock,  taken  pains 
to  keep  the  bulk  of  it  in  inner  pockets  of  the  shirt  or  in 
some  cases  sewn  inside  of  the  shirt.  The  search  that  was 
now  being  made  speedily  brought  these  concealed  hoards 
to  light,  as  we  were  stripped  and  our  clothing  was  exam 
ined  piece  by  piece.  The  men  of  the  Nineteenth  Corps  had, 
unfortunately  for  themselves,  been  paid  off  a  few  days  be 
fore  the  battle,  and  we  were  therefore  losing  savings  which 
represented  the  earnings  of  three  months  or  more.  I  had 
myself  about  $300,  the  parting  from  which  made  me  very 
cross  not  only  on  general  principles  but  because  I  had 
heard  enough  of  prison  life  to  realise  how  valuable  a  few 


388  Libby  Prison  [1864 

greenbacks  could  be  made.1  The  search  over  and  the 
clothing  restored  (less  a  few  pieces  which  had  proved  too 
tempting  to  the  searchers),  we  made  our  way  to  the  two 
upper  floors  which  constituted  the  permanent  abiding 
place  for  the  guests  of  Hotel  Libby.  The  ground  floor, 
on  which  our  examination  had  taken  place,  could  be  passed 
through  with  the  consent  of  the  guard,  but  the  prisoners 
were  not  allowed  to  remain  there.  The  prisoners  who 
came  into  Libby  comprised  only  the  commissioned  officers; 
the  privates  and  non-commissioned  officers  had  been 
separated  from  us  on  entering  the  town  and  had  been 
marched  off  to  the  two  prisons  reserved  for  them,  one 
of  which,  Belle-Isle,  secured  for  itself  a  record  of  mortality 
somewhat  worse  than  that  of  Libby. 

We  reported  ourselves  to  the  senior  officer  among  our 
prisoners  and  our  names  were  duly  recorded  by  the 
adjutant  appointed  for  the  purpose.  I  was  relieved  to 
find  that  military  organisation  was  maintained  even 
within  the  prison  walls.  Imprisonment  is  bad  enough 
in  itself,  but  if  it  is  accompanied  by  lack  of  discipline, 
there  results  a  discomfort  and  a  brutality  which  produces 
a  kind  of  pandemonium  rule.  Pains  were  taken  by  the 
adjutant  to  secure  floor  spaces  for  us  as  far  as  practicable 
according  to  our  own  preference  for  companionship.  My 
friend  Vander  Weyde  and  myself  were  soon  stretched  out 
in  a  corner,  not  far  from  the  front  windows,  which  served 
our  purpose  as  well  as  any  other.  On  the  brick  against 
which  my  head  rested  as  I  lay,  were  already  scratched  the 
names  of  several  previous  tenants.  I  asked  about  the 
man  whose  name  came  last  in  the  line  and  was  told  that  he 
had  been  comfortably  buried  the  week  before.  I  added 

JWe  were  interested  to  see  the  adjutant  of  the  prison  noting  down 
in  a  memorandum  book  the  sum  taken  from  each  man.  "It  will  be  all 
right,  gentlemen,''  he  said  reassuringly;  "  these  moneys  will,  of  course,  be 
returned  to  you."  The  survivors  knew  better  at  the  close  of  the  winter. 


1864]  Prison  Occupations  389 

my  own  name  with  an  old  nail  borrowed  for  the  purpose 
and  I  then  controlled  as  tenant  (I  hoped  it  was  not  to  be 
for  a  very  long  leasehold)  the  space  of  floor  extending 
from  the  brick  towards  the  centre  of  the  room.  I  could 
not  in  fact  actually  occupy  the  full  six-feet  length  to  which 
I  was  entitled. 

After  we  had  slept  off  the  accumulated  fatigue  of  the 
past  week,  the  hours,  at  least  at  the  outset,  hung  pretty 
heavily.  The  group  of  prisoners  in  the  building,  com 
prising  in  all  perhaps  450  officers,  included  a  number  of 
pleasant  companions,  and  there  were  of  course  always 
experiences  and  stories  to  exchange,  but  the  men  who  had 
been  there  for  any  considerable  number  of  months  were 
pretty  low  in  their  vitality  and  were  too  despondent  to 
feel  very  conversational.  I  understood  that  the  social 
atmosphere  of  the  prison  had  varied  not  a  little  from 
winter  to  winter  according  to  the  pluck,  enterprise,  and 
suggestiveness  of  the  men  who  were  on  hand  to  assume 
the  social  leadership,  and  we  happened  to  have  rather  a 
dull  lot.  Certain  occupations  and  amusements  were, 
however,  in  the  end  arranged.  I  began  at  once  to  do  some 
playing  of  chess,  having  been  able  to  manufacture  a  chess 
board  from  a  piece  of  plank  that  a  civil  guard  secured  for 
me  and  carving,  with  the  aid  of  Vander  Weyde,  a  set  of 
men  out  of  a  stick  of  firewood.  I  began  also  the  study  of 
Spanish  with  a  Mexican  who  had  secured  a  commission 
in  one  of  our  regiments,  and  a  little  later,  in  company  with 
Captain  William  Cook,  a  clear-headed  chap  from  Yale, 
made  up  a  class  in  German,  the  instruction  of  which  was 
divided  between  Captain  Cook  and  myself.  I  had  a 
knowledge  of  German,  but  as  I  had  studied  it  purely 
through  the  ear  (my  eyesight  having  been  very  limited 
during  my  stay  in  Germany)  I  had  no  acquaintance  with 
the  grammar.  Cook  knew  nothing  about  German,  but 
had  a  good  knowledge  of  Latin  and  of  the  principles  of 


39°  Rose's  Tunnel  [1864 

grammar.  When  I  had  given  him  a  certain  number  of 
examples  of  a  way  in  which  a  thing  was  said  in  German, 
Cook  would  evolve  a  rule.  He  would  then  teach  the  class 
the  rule  and  I  would  show  them  how  to  apply  the  rule. 

The  building  which  was  used  for  the  prison  has  been 
described  in  a  good  many  of  the  war  narratives,  and  views 
and  accounts  of  it  are  given,  among  other  places,  in  the 
narrative  written  by  Colonel  Rose  of  the  escape  by  the 
tunnel  that  was  dug  in  the  fall  of  1863.  It  had  been, 
as  before  stated,  utilised  for  ship-chandlery  supplies. 
It  backed  on  to  a  kind  of  creek  that  connected  directly 
with  the  James  River,  and  fronted  on  a  street,  the  name  of 
which  I  have  forgotten,  that  ran  into  Main  Street.  The 
building  was  in  three  stories  with  a  cellar.  The  prisoners 
were  allowed  to  sleep  and  to  remain  in  the  two  upper 
stories  and  to  pass  through  the  ground  floor  out  to 
the  yard.  On  the  ground  floor  itself  and  in  the  yard 
was  a  full  supply  of  sentries,  and  the  sentries  also  paced 
about  the  entire  building  outside.  The  tunnel  of  '63 
had  been  worked  from  the  cellar,  but  the  story  is  too 
long  to  give  here  in  detail.  The  undertaking  had  been 
planned  by  Colonel  Rose,  who  was  unfortunately  not 
one  of  those  who  secured  his  freedom.  Of  the  120  odd 
men  who  made  their  way  out  through  the  tunnel,  all 
but  about  40  were  recaptured.  They  were  of  course 
separated  from  the  Union  lines  by  the  whole  force  of 
Lee's  army.  The  surprise  is  that  any  men  got  through. 

In  my  time,  there  was  no  opportunity  for  even  an 
attempt  at  a  tunnel.  The  cellar  had  been  thoroughly 
sealed  with  cement  and  access  to  it  was  carefully  guarded. 
A  trained  bloodhound  had  been  added  to  the  prison 
guard.  I  do  not  know  when  that  dog  took  time  to  sleep 
for,  according  to  all  reports,  he  accompanied  every  round 
of  the  guard  (the  rounds  were  made  once  in  two  hours)  for 
the  entire  circuit  of  the  building.  He  had  thoroughly 


1864]  The  Prison  Bloodhound  391 

learned  his  prison  duty,  and  with  his  trained  instinct  and 
keen  scent  not  only  would  there  have  been  a  prompt 
detection  of  any  disturbance  of  the  ground,  but  an  absolute 
impossibility  of  the  man  making  the  disturbance  getting 
away  out  of  the  dog's  reach.  When  Richmond  was 
captured,  this  dog  was  among  the  prisoners,  and  I  read 
that  he  was  taken  to  New  York  and  sold  at  auction  on 
the  steps  of  the  Astor  House  for  a  large  sum.  I  judge 
that  the  buyer,  whoever  he  was,  must  have  found  it 
necessary  to  keep  away  from  the  dog's  observance  any 
member  of  his  family  or  friends  who  might  be  wearing 
blue  cloth.  It  was  quite  clear  to  the  hound  that  any  one 
wearing  blue  was  to  be  torn  up.  I  was  told  that  when  a 
hound  was  young  he  could  be  trained  to  almost  any  duty, 
but  that  when  grown  up  any  change  of  training  was 
practically  impossible. 

From  the  back  windows  of  the  upper  floors  we  could 
look  across  the  stretch  of  the  James  River,  and,  if  I  rightly 
remember,  we  had  a  view  of  a  corner  of  Belle- Isle  where 
hundreds  of  our  own  men  were  freezing  to  death  through 
out  that  last  dreary  winter.  Beyond  a  bend  in  the  river 
could  be  seen  the  fall  of  shells  from  the  advance  lines  of 
the  right  of  our  army.  The  artillery  firing  was  some 
times  carried  on  at  night  when  the  path  of  each  shell  as  it 
curved  through  the  air  was  of  course  visible  for  a  con 
siderable  distance.  We  did  not  get  the  full  extent  of  the 
curve  as  the  shells  were  coming  towards  us,  but  in  De 
cember,  as  our  lines  came  closer  and  we  were  hopeful  that 
the  city  must  soon  yield  to  the  pressure,  we  used  to  take 
counsel  through  the  hours  of  the  night  with  the  artillery 
officers,  whose  judgment  was  of  course  better  in  calculating 
any  possible  advance  in  the  position  of  our  batteries. 

The  food  throughout  that  winter  became  scantier  and 
worse  in  quality  as  the  weeks  rolled  on.  This  was  not 
to  be  wondered  at  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  Lee's  army 


392  Prison  Food  [1864 

and  the  non-combatants  of  Richmond  and  of  Petersburg 
were  being  fed  by  supplies  brought  from  a  considerable 
distance,  and  that  there  were  during  this  winter  but  two 
lines  of  railroad,  that  of  Danville  on  the  south-west  and 
that  through  Weldon  to  the  south.  The  Weldon  line 
was  also  by  no  means  a  trustworthy  channel  of  supplies 
as  it  was  cut  by  our  cavalry  from  time  to  time,  until  as  a 
result  of  the  battles  of  April  2  and  3,  1865,  it  was  taken 
possession  of  altogether.  The  road  to  Danville  was  cut 
but  once;  but  it  was  in  poor  repair  and  was  very  much 
overworked  with  the  pressure  of  the  army  not  only  for 
food  but  for  ammunition.  There  was  of  course  but  little 
food  left  available  for  the  prisoners.  The  stupidity,  not 
to  say  the  barbarity,  on  the  part  of  the  Confederate 
administration  was  in  undertaking  to  keep  prisoners  at 
all  through  that  winter  when  there  were  many  places 
available  south  of  Virginia  where  the  prisoners  could 
have  been  better  cared  for  and  where  the  labour  and 
expense  of  caring  for  them  would  have  been  much  less. 
General  Winder,  who  was  the  commissary  of  prisoners, 
and  Jefferson  Davis,  to  whom  his  reports  were  made 
directly  and  from  whom  came  his  instructions,  must  share 
together  the  responsibility  for  this  stupidity  of  manage 
ment  which  cost  the  lives  of  hundreds  of  good  men  and 
which  did  the  Confederacy  no  real  service.  A  similar 
responsibility  rests  of  course  with  both  men  for  the  long- 
continued  brutalities  of  Andersonville,  Salisbury,  and  other 
of  the  prison  pens  in  the  South.  The  judgment  of  any 
intelligent  Northerner  who  had  himself  been  a  prisoner 
or  who,  irrespective  of  personal  experience,  had  taken 
pains  to  collect  the  direct  experience  of  prisoners  and  the 
statistics  of  the  Southern  prisons,  must  hold  Winder 
and  Davis  guilty  of  the  murder  of  thousands  of  good 
Americans.  Fortunately  for  Winder,  he  died  within  a 
few  weeks  of  the  capture  of  Richmond.  Fortunately  for 


1864]  Rations  393 

Davis,  his  direct  responsibility  for  this  brutal  mismanage 
ment  of  the  Southern  prisons  was  for  the  time  lost  sight 
of  in  connection  with  the  suggestion  that  he  should  be 
brought  to  trial  for  treason.  With  the  decision  (a  very 
wise  decision)  on  the  part  of  our  Government  that  the 
charge  for  treason  should  not  be  pressed,  and  the  release 
of  Davis  after  two  months'  imprisonment,  the  charges 
that  ought  to  have  been  made  for  the  unnecessary  loss 
of  life  among  the  inmates  of  the  Southern  prisons  were  lost 
sight  of. 

The  rations  that  were  given  to  us  in  November  com 
prised  chunks  of  corn-bread  and  occasional  half  pints  of 
bean  soup.  The  bakers  of  the  corn-bread  had  not  troubled 
themselves  in  making  any  careful  sifting  of  the  meal,  so 
that  we  found  in  the  chunks  a  miscellaneous  variety  of 
objects,  including  pieces  of  stick,  pieces  of  coal,  cock 
roaches,  and  occasionally  a  mouse.  The  beans  were 
hardly  more  attractive,  because  they  had  been  badly  stored 
and  were  full  of  weevils.  They  probably  represented 
supplies  which  had  been  condemned  by  the  army  com 
missary  as  unfit  for  his  own  troops.  We  were  not  sorry 
when  the  supplies  of  beans  gave  out  and  the  ration  was 
brought  down  to  the  simple  chunk  of  corn-bread.  It  is 
my  memory  that  we  received  each  day  but  the  one  chunk, 
that  was  given  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  We 
would  occasionally  cut  this  into  two  or  three  pieces  with 
the  idea  of  making  two  or  three  meals,  but  most  of  us 
found  it  impossible  to  avoid  eating  it  all  within  the  first 
hour.  On  the  ground  of  some  convenience  in  the  measure 
ment  by  the  prison  commissary,  the  corn-bread  was 
divided  into  chunks,  each  chunk  of  which  represented 
the  rations  for  two  men.  We  were  grouped  in  " messes" 
of  twelve,  and  then  were,  of  necessity,  grouped  further  into 
special  messes  of  two.  My  chum  Vander  Weyde  and  I  took 
turns  in  receiving  the  little  chunk  or  slab  that  belonged 


394  Rations  [1864 

on  our  piece  of  the  floor,  known  as  our  "quarters."  We 
took  turns  also  in  the  division  of  this  into  two  pieces. 
However  this  division  might  be  made,  one  piece  usually 
looked  bigger  than  the  other  and  it  was  always  the  piece 
that  the  other  fellow  had.  A  pocket  knife  in  which 
remained  one  broken  blade  was  an  important  part  of  the 
household  furniture  of  my  chum  and  self,  and  was  used  for 
this  dividing.  When  this  little  slab  had  been  cut  in  two, 
the  man  whose  turn  it  had  been  to  do  the  cutting,  laid  the 
knife  on  one  of  the  two  pieces,  and  his  comrade,  with 
eyes  shut,  called  out  his  choice  of  "with"  or  "without" 
(the  knife).  In  later  days  in  dining  in  London  with 
Vander  Weyde  who,  like  myself,  pulled  through  the  various 
risks  of  the  campaign,  his  invitation  was  usually  connected 
with  the  phrase  "with"  or  "without"  which  would  pleas 
antly  recall  hungry  hours  of  the  past. 

On  the  first  Tuesday  of  November,  it  was  decided  to  hold 
in  the  prison  a  Presidential  election.  I  may  admit  to  hav 
ing  shared  the  doubt  expressed  by  some  others  as  to  the 
wisdom  of  the  attempt.  There  was  among  the  prisoners 
a  dissatisfaction,  which  might  be  called  well-founded,  at 
the  manner  in  which  they  had  been  neglected,  or  appeared 
to  have  been  neglected,  by  the  authorities  in  Washington. 
At  this  time,  the  exchange  had  been  blocked  for  more 
than  six  months,  and  when,  in  the  following  March, 
exchange  arrangements  were  finally  resumed,  there  had 
been  no  general  exchange  for  nearly  twelve  months.  As 
the  war  progressed,  and  the  resources  of  the  Confederates 
were  diminished,  it  was  impossible,  at  least  as  far  as  the 
prisons  of  northern  Virginia  were  concerned,  to  make 
appropriate  provision  for  the  care  of  the  prisoners.  Even 
if  there  had  been  an  honest  desire  on  the  part  of  the 
authorities  to  save  the  lines,  or  to  protect  the  health  of 
the  helpless  men  for  whom  they  were  responsible,  the  task 
would  have  been  difficult;  but  it  was  quite  evident  that 


i864]  A  Presidential  Election  395 

there  was  no  such  desire.  I  remember  among  the  war 
correspondence  that  is  in  print  a  letter  from  Commissioner 
Ould  to  President  Davis  written  in  the  winter  of  i 864-65 ^ 
urging  the  policy  of  a  prompt  renewal  of  the  exchange 
arrangements.  It  is  evident,  writes  the  Commissioner 
(I  am  quoting  only  the  substance  of  the  letter  and,  there 
fore,  do  not  use  quotation  marks),  that  we  need  for  our 
depleted  ranks  all  the  fighting  men  that  can  be  secured. 
The  men  who  have  returned  to  us  from  the  Northern 
prisons  are  for  the  most  part  able-bodied  and  fit  for  service, 
while  but  few  of  the  fellows  that  we  should  send  North  in 
the  exchange  will  be  permitted  by  their  surgeons  again 
to  handle  muskets. 

Some  months  later,  I  realised  the  truth  of  Commissioner 
Quid's  observations.  The  men  who  on  the  first  of  March, 
1865,  came  out  of  Libby  and  Danville  were,  with  hardly 
an  exception,  unfit  for  service,  and  the  same  was,  of 
course,  true  for  Andersonville  and  for  the  other  prisons  in 
the  far  South.  The  Confederates  whom  we  met  on  the 
steamboats  coming  to  Richmond  as  we  went  down  the 
James  looked  to  be  in  good  working  and  in  good  fight 
ing  condition.  By  November,  1864,  the  mortality 
in  the  Virginia  prisons  had  become  serious.  The  men 
who  were  not  entirely  broken  down  were,  through  lack  of 
food  and  through  the  exposure  to  the  cold  from  lack  of 
clothing,  physically  discouraged  and  depressed,  although 
they  did  what  they  could  to  maintain  their  will  power. 
I  could  not  but  fear,  therefore,  that  in  an  election  which 
was  to  indicate  their  approval,  or  their  disapproval,  of  the 
management  of  affairs  on  the  part  of  the  authorities  in 
Washington,  and  of  the  inaction  in  regard  to  the  renewal 
of  the  exchange,  the  majority  of  their  votes  might,  not 
unnaturally,  be  cast  against  the  re-election  of  Lincoln. 
The  men  who  had  planned  this  test  election  trusted  their 
comrades  and  their  confidence  proved  to  be  justified. 


396  We  Re-elect  Lincoln  [1864 

When  the  vote  was  counted,  it  was  found  that  we  had 
elected  Lincoln  by  about  three  to  one.  Years  afterwards 
I  learned  from  Robert  Lincoln  that  the  report  of  this 
vote  in  Libby  Prison,  reaching  his  father  months  later,  was 
referred  to  by  the  President  as  the  most  satisfactory  and 
encouraging  episode  in  the  Presidential  campaign.  His 
words  were  in  effect:  We  can  trust  the  soldiers.  The 
votes  had,  of  course,  no  part  in  the  official  count,  but,  as 
Lincoln  understood,  they  were  important  as  showing  the 
persistence,  courage,  and  devotion  of  the  men.  My  own 
ballot  would  in  any  case  have  been  illegal,  as  I  was  but 
twenty  years  of  age,  but  I  have  always  felt  that  it  was  on 
the  whole  the  most  important  vote  I  had  ever  cast. 

In  December,  1864,  the  authorities  finally  decided  to 
transfer  the  prisoners  in  Richmond  to  a  point  farther 
south,  and  the  town  of  Danville  was  selected  for  the 
purpose.  The  transfer  ought,  of  course,  to  have  been 
made  a  long  time  earlier.  During  the  last  year  of  the 
war,  Richmond  was  an  absolutely  unsuitable  place  to 
utilise  for  the  "storage"  of  prisoners.  Richmond  had 
but  two  lines  of  railroad  communication  with  the  regions 
from  which  the  supplies  had  to  be  brought,  the  Weldon  road 
running  by  way  of  Petersburg  directly  south,  and  the  Dan 
ville  road  running  south-west  and  reaching  North  Carolina 
through  the  south-western  corner  of  the  State  of  Virginia. 

The  left  flank  of  Grant's  army  stretched  south 
ward  from  Petersburg  almost  to  the  line  of  the  Weldon 
road,  and  a  number  of  the  actions  of  the  campaigns 
of  '64-' 65  were  fought  for  the  purpose  of  cutting  this 
line  of  communication.  As  a  fact,  it  was  interrupted 
quite  frequently,  and  it  is  only  surprising  that  Lee's 
quartermasters  were  able  to  use  it  as  largely  as  they  did. 
The  Danville  road  was  fully  within  the  Confederate  lines 
and  suffered  only  from  an  occasional  cavalry  raid.  It 
was,  however,  in  a  bad  state  of  repair  and  was  in  any  case 


1864]  The  Move  to  Danville  397 

an  insufficient  line  of  supply  for  a  town  which  still  con 
tained  thirty  or  forty  thousand  people  and  for  an  army 
of  a  hundred  thousand.  It  was  not  unnatural  that,  under 
the  circumstances,  the  rations  for  the  prisoners  should 
be  brought  down  to  the  lowest  possible  compass.  It  is 
probable,  as  suggested,  that  we  were  fed  chiefly  from  the 
stores  which  the  army  commissary  had  condemned  as 
unfit  for  use.  While  there  was  on  this  ground  of  the 
difficulty  of  supply  quite  sufficient  reason  for  the  transfer 
of  the  prisoners,  it  was  our  understanding  that  the  immedi 
ate  cause  of  the  decision  was  the  dread,  in  the  latter  part 
of  December,  1864,  that  the  Confederate  lines  which 
were  being  " crowded"  on  their  left,  might  be  altogether 
broken.  At  all  events  when  we  were  hastened  out  from 
our  beds  (so-called)  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  got 
the  impression  from  the  urgency  of  the  guards  that 
"  something  was  up,"  and,  notwithstanding  the  prospect  of 
a  fatiguing  journey,  we  moved  out  of  "  Libby  Hotel"  with 
some  cheerfulness  of  expectation.  We  thought  we  could 
hardly  find  worse  quarters,  while  if  the  "Rebs"  were 
apprehensive  there  was  something  for  us  to  be  hopeful 
about. 

We  were  hurried  across  Richmond  at  a  double  quick 
pace  as  if  the  matter  of  getting  rid  of  us  was  really  urgent. 
We  had  very  little  to  carry  in  the  way  of  baggage.  A  tin 
pan  or  two,  a  scrap  of  blanket,  a  chipped  plate,  and  an 
occasional  broken  jack-knife  comprised  about  all  the 
"properties"  that  the  groups  or  messes  had  been  able  to 
accumulate.  We  were  put  on  board  a  train  made  up  of 
box  or  freight  cars  and  started  off  on  what  proved  to  be 
a  very  tedious  journey  to  Danville.  It  is  my  memory 
that  the  road  at  that  time  comprised  only  a  single  track. 
I  know  that  our  train  had  to  be  switched  or  sided  from 
time  to  time  to  make  way  for  the  trains  coming  north 
with  supplies  or  "recruits."  The  latter,  one  of  our 


The  Danville  Prison  [1864 

guards  frankly  admitted,  were  not  men  newly  enlisted, 
but  in  great  part  deserters  or  stragglers  or  men  who  had 
declined  to  enlist  and  had  succeeded  for  a  time  in  evading 
the  conscription.  The  Rebel  provost-marshals  were, 
particularly  during  the  last  eighteen  months  of  the  war, 
carrying  on  an  active  campaign  in  the  mountainous  dis 
tricts  of  western  North  Carolina  and  eastern  Tennessee  to 
recover  their  "  deserters, "  the  term  including  as  they  used 
it,  the  men  who  had  run  away  from  the  conscription. 

Danville  is  an  old  settlement  on  the  river  Dan  which 
had  been,  and  which  probably  is  at  this  time  again,  the 
centre  of  the  tobacco  industry.  The  town  had  during 
the  century  and  a  half  of  its  existence  been  utilised  by  the 
tobacco  planters  for  the  storing  and  curing  of  their  crop. 
The  town  lies  so  close  to  the  North  Carolina  boundary 
that  we  could,  looking  across  the  river  from  the  back 
windows  of  our  prison,  which  was  itself  a  tobacco  ware 
house,  see  the  crests  of  the  great  Smoky  Mountains.  We 
had  understood  from  the  gossip  of  our  guards  and  in  other 
ways  that  these  mountains  included  districts  which  had 
never  acknowledged  the  authority  of  the  Confederacy, 
and  there  naturally  came  to  be  much  talk  in  the  prison  as 
to  the  possibility  of  slipping  away  from  the  prison,  getting 
across  the  waters  of  the  Dan,  and  joining  in  the  mountains 
the  groups  of  those  whom  our  Confederate  friends  ranked 
as  Rebels. 

The  tobacco  warehouse  that  was  assigned  to  us  in  Dan 
ville  was  not  much  of  an  improvement  on  Mr.  Libby's 
ship-chandlery  building.  It  was,  or  it  soon  came  to  be, 
somewhat  dirtier,  because  the  supervision  or  discipline  on 
the  part  of  the  managers  of  the  prison  was  not  so  good  as 
that  in  Richmond.  Major  Turner,  who  in  my  time  com 
manded  at  Libby,  was  a  good  deal  of  a  brute,  but  he  was 
a  soldier  and  he  kept  things  in  order.  Colonel  Smith,  the 
one-legged  veteran  who  presided  at  Danville,  was  a  mild- 


1864]  Chances  of  Escape  399 

mannered  man  who  did  not  appear  to  have  any  special 
ill-will  against  the  prisoners.  The  discipline,  however,  of 
his  prison  guards  was  slack  and  the  whole  management  was 
slovenly.  Smith  was  a  timid  man  and  when  we  made 
application  for  the  use  of  some  hoes  and  spades  with  which 
to  scrape  the  worst  of  the  dirt  off  the  prison  floors,  he 
objected  that  it  was  not  safe  to  place  arms  in  the  hands 
of  prisoners.  The  dirt,  therefore,  remained  and  increased 
as  the  months  went  on.  The  warehouse  had  three  floors 
and,  as  at  Libby,  the  prisoners  were  confined  to  the  two 
upper  floors  with  the  privilege  of  passing  through  the 
ground  floor  on  their  necessary  visits  to  the  yard.  The 
sentries  marched  around  the  building  outside  and  a  guard 
was  stationed  on  the  ground-floor  room  and  another  in  the 
yard.  The  chances  in  any  case  could  not  be  favourable 
for  the  final  escape  of  a  prisoner  who  might  succeed  in 
eluding  the  prison  guards.  We  were  now  hundreds  of 
miles  from  the  lines  of  Grant's  army  and  the  whole  of 
Lee's  force  was  in  between.  The  path  northward  through 
the  Shenandoah  Valley  was  also  blocked  pretty  effectively 
by  the  remnants  of  Early's  army,  while  westward  and 
south-westward  lay  a  great  wilderness,  in  part  bleak 
mountains,  through  which  it  would  be  difficult  for  a 
traveller,  without  guides  and  without  food,  to  find  his  way. 
There  was  the  further  difficulty  that  the  shoes  of  all  our 
men  were  in  bad  shape  and  quite  a  number  had  no  shoes 
left  at  all. 

These  discouragements  did  not  prevent  an  escape  not 
only  from  being  talked  over  but  actually  planned.  One 
of  the  earlier  of  the  attempts  was  made  by  way  of  the 
prison  yard  through  the  cellar.  The  cellar  was,  we  found, 
to  be  reached  from  the  yard  by  way  of  a  pair  of  doors 
which  opened  inward  and  which  were  closed  from  within 
by  a  bar.  After  a  little  experimenting  on  one  of  the 
stormy  days  when  the  sentry  had  retired  from  the  yard, 


400  A  Tunnel  [1864-1865 

we  found  that  the  bar  was  wood.  A  saw  was  made  by 
notching  with  a  jack-knife  the  blade  of  a  table-knife,  and 
favourable  opportunities  (that  is  to  say  times  when  the 
rain  or  the  sleet  had  driven  the  sentry  within)  were  utilised 
in  turn  by  the  men  visiting  the  yard  to  saw  through  the 
bar.  When  the  doors  were  finally  loose,  lots  were  drawn 
for  the  privilege  or  the  responsibility,  I  am  not  sure  just 
which  way  it  was  regarded,  of  pushing  them  back  and 
dropping  into  the  cellar  below.  We  had,  of  course,  no 
means  of  knowing  how  great  the  drop  was  or  what  the 
chances  might  be  of  getting  back  again.  The  difference 
in  level  proved  to  be  not  serious,  I  think  about  three  feet, 
and  the  two  men  who  first  dropped  in,  pushing  the  doors  to 
behind  them,  found  the  way  clear  for  the  digging  of  the 
proposed  tunnel.  It  was  necessary,  of  course,  to  work 
entirely  by  feel  as  there  was  no  light  and  no  possibility  of 
securing  light.  Looking  from  the  windows  above,  we 
had  traced  the  line  of  an  outer  ditch  which  lay  beyond 
the  lane  that  ran  along  the  prison  wall.  The  path  of 
the  sentry  was  up  and  down  this  lane.  The  scheme  was 
to  shape  the  tunnel  so  that  it  would  come  out  into  the 
ditch,  with  the  idea  that  the  men  getting  through  could  lie 
quietly  under  cover  until  an  opportunity  came  for  slipping 
across  the  fields  towards  the  river. 

The  first  explorers  in  the  cellar  had  upon  them  the 
task  of  fixing  the  place  for  the  cutting  of  the  tunnel. 
It  was  important  to  find  a  point  in  the  foundation 
wall  where  there  was  a  stone  big  enough  to  form  a 
support  for  the  wall  above  the  channel  of  the  tunnel. 
In  connection  with  this  requirement,  the  first  attempt 
risked  producing  a  fatal  result.  At  the  point  selected, 
the  foundation  stone  was  not  quite  long  enough  to  cover 
the  tunnel  and  it  fell  in  on  the  shoulders  of  the  unfortunate 
worker.  His  comrades  (fortunately  there  were  at  the 
time  three  men  in  the  prison  yard)  succeeded  with  very 


A  Tunnel  401 

great  difficulty  in  raising  the  stone  sufficiently  to  enable 
their  man  to  be  pulled  out,  and  then  the  work  had  to  be 
begun  over  again.  The  second  attempt  was  successful  as 
far  as  making  a  safe  passageway  through  the  foundation 
was  concerned.  The  whole  business  occupied  weeks  of 
the  winter  because,  as  explained,  it  was  possible  to  drop 
into  the  cellar  only  when  the  weather  was  bad  and  the 
sentry  was  protecting  himself  inside  the  building.  With 
this  tunnel  we  did  not  have  the  difficulty,  that  was  usually 
so  serious,  of  hiding  the  earth,  as  there  was  no  inspection 
of  the  cellar.  The  digging  was  done  with  a  couple  of  tin 
plates,  some  broken  knives,  a  piece  of  bayonet,  and  some 
flat  stones.  The  diggers  had  no  spirit  level  and  if  one  had 
been  within  reach  it  could  not  have  been  used  for  want  of 
light.  The  direction  of  the  tunnel  could,  therefore,  be  ar 
rived  at  only  by  feel,  and  it  was  for  want  of  any  trustworthy 
means  of  guiding  the  diggers  that  the  enterprise  came  to 
failure.  The  tunnel  was  permitted  to  slant  upward  so 
that  when  it  came  out  beyond  the  building  it  was  too  near 
the  surface.  The  sentry,  pacing  his  beat,  found  one  even 
ing  the  ground  suddenly  give  way  beneath  his  feet;  he 
fell  in  up  to  his  middle  or  thereabouts,  breaking  his  arm 
as  he  fell.  His  cry  of  alarm  was  heard  by  the  next  man 
on  the  beat,  who  promptly  fired  off  his  musket,  and  then 
came  the  firing  of  every  musket  that  the  guards  had 
within  reach  and  the  beating  of  the  long  roll.  The  alarm 
was  given  that  the  " Yanks"  were  attacking  the  town 
and  the  larger  portion  of  the  guards  were  hurried  to  the 
picket  line,  leaving  the  building  for  a  time  almost  unpro 
tected.  I  am  not  sure  how  long  it  was  before  the  unfortu 
nate  sentry  was  pulled  out  of  the  hole.  The  men  in  the 
cellar  had,  however,  time  to  make  their  escape  and  to  free 
themselves,  in  great  part  at  least,  from  the  cellar  clay  be 
fore,  through  the  finding  of  the  sentry,  the  record  of  the  tun 
nel  was  traced.  The  inspection  in  the  cellar  produced,  as 
26 


402  A  Fighting  Chance  [1865 

evidence  of  the  "hellish"  designs  of  the  "Yanks,"  a  tin 
plate  scratched  with  a  single  initial.  This  plate  was 
brought  upstairs  by  Colonel  Smith  and  his  adjutant  in 
the  attempt  to  identify  the  malefactor  who  had  caused 
him  such  trouble  and  anxiety.  Curiously  enough,  nobody 
was  found  ready  to  acknowledge  the  initial.  The  muddy 
shirts  of  the  last  two  workers  had  been  safely  deposited 
beneath  a  chap  who  was  laid  up  with  inflammatory 
rheumatism  and  whose  corner  Smith  was  good  enough  not 
to  inspect.  The  cellar  doors  were  however  closed  with 
an  iron  bar  and  further  attempts  in  that  direction  were 
rendered  impossible. 

Later  in  the  winter,  a  second  experiment  was  made 
which  also  proved  a  failure  and  the  consequences  of  which 
were  more  serious.  Gossip  came  to  us  through  one  of  the 
guards  (who  had,  of  course,  no  business  to  do  any  talking 
of  the  kind)  that  some  Yankee  cavalry  were  raiding  fifty 
miles  or  so  down  the  road  and  had  destroyed  some  bridges. 
A  couple  of  troops,  I  think  of  Imboden's  cavalry,  were 
brought  up  from  Staunton  to  pursue  and,  if  possible,  to 
head  off  the  raiders.  They  stopped  for  dinner  at  the 
prison  guard-house  and  during  their  dinner  their  muskets 
were  stacked  in  a  line  just  outside  of  the  prison  windows. 
We  had  no  difficulty  in  counting  the  pieces  and  found 
there  were  about  a  hundred  and  fifty,  presumably  loaded. 
The  senior  officer  of  the  prisoners  (and  in  Danville  as  in 
Libby  we  maintained  in  prison  as  out  of  it  army  subordin 
ation),  General  Joseph  Hayes  of  Boston,  was  at  this  time 
in  the  hospital  and  the  prisoners  accepted  as  the  com 
mander  in  charge  the  second  in  rank,  General  Duffie. 
Duffie  was  a  Frenchman  who  had  seen  service  in  Europe 
and  who  had  a  good  record  as  a  cavalry  officer.  My 
impression  of  him  is  that  he  was  more  or  less  of  a  madcap ; 
he  was  certainly  in  manner  both  arrogant  and  self-willed. 
The  idea  of  taking  possession  of  the  muskets  stacked  so 


i865]  A  Fighting  Chance  403 

conveniently  within  reach  and  of  utilising  these  to  over 
awe  the  guard  originated,  I  believe,  with  Duffie.  In  any 
case  he  adopted  it  as  his  own  and  called  for  volunteers  to 
fall  in  and  to  take  action  as  directed.  The  first  step  was 
to  send  a  party  down  to  the  river  for  water. 

It  was  the  routine  when  water  was  needed,  to  send  out 
with  the  sentry  detached  for  the  purpose  five  or  six  men 
with  buckets  to  the  river.  As  the  winter  progressed  and 
the  prisoners  grew  weaker  so  that  two  men  could  not  carry 
a  bucket  for  any  distance,  we  got  permission  to  double  the 
parties  so  that  the  group  comprised  sometimes  twelve  or 
fifteen.  As  the  door  was  opened  to  admit  the  returning 
party,  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  prisoners,  having  over 
powered  the  guards  within  the  building,  were  to  make  a 
rush  for  the  muskets,  and,  having  secured  these,  were  to 
take  possession  of  the  guard-house  and  to  make  prisoners 
of  the  disarmed  troopers  as  well  as  of  the  guards.  We 
youngsters  were,  naturally,  not  admitted  to  the  councils 
but  the  details  of  the  plan  leaked  out  to  us  gradually.  I 
understood  that  some  of  the  older  and  wiser  men  sub 
mitted  the  objections  that  would  naturally  have  occurred. 
It  would  not  be  possible  at  once  to  secure  control  of  the 
telegraph  wires  and  troops  could  be  hurried  up  from 
Staunton  and  elsewhere  who  could  overtake  us  easily  after 
we  had  started.  We  were  in  very  bad  shape  for  marching 
not  only  on  the  ground  of  lack  of  strength  but  for  want  of 
shoes.  The  winter  weather  was  bleak  and  the  roads  were 
in  part  covered  by  snow  and  ice.  If  the  matter  could  have 
been  put  to  a  vote,  the  decision  would  undoubtedly  have 
been  adverse.  Duffie,  however,  took  the  ground  that  it 
was  a  military  operation  in  which  his  orders  must  be 
accepted  or  those  declining  to  help  would  run  the  risk  of 
being  reported  later  for  "  disobedience  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy. "  With  the  issue  so  presented,  there  appeared  to 
be  no  alternative.  Colonel  Ralston,  of  a  New  York  regi- 


404  A  Fighting  Chance  [1865 

ment,  who  was,  I  believe,  the  next  senior  officer  and  who 
had  been  one  of  the  sharpest  critics  of  the  plan,  at  once 
expressed  his  readiness  to  do  the  best  that  was  possible, 
and  took  charge  of  the  selecting  and  directing  of  the 
force. 

The  water  party  was  sent  out  and  a  dozen  men  were 
detailed  to  overpower  at  a  signal,  as  the  door  was  being 
opened,  the  three  guards  who  were  within  the  building. 
The  water  party  got  back  within  reach  of  the  door,  which 
was  being  opened  as  the  signal  was  given.  Two  of  the 
guards  were  successfully  throttled  (merely  a  momentary 
suffocation),  but  the  third,  while  being  knocked  down, 
managed  to  fire  off  his  piece.  The  guards  outside  at  once 
rushed  to  close  the  door  and  our  column  from  within 
rushed  to  force  it  open.  We  were  hampered  by  stairs 
and  by  the  difficulty  with  the  third  sentry,  and  the  door 
was  closed  and  barred  in  our  faces.  The  guards  outside 
then  put  their  muskets  through  the  gratings  of  the  win 
dows  and  fired  at  leisure.  A  number  of  the  prisoners  were 
hit  and  Ralston  was  wounded  with  a  wound  that  proved  a 
few  hours  later  to  be  mortal.  The  water  party  fortunately 
was  not  injured  and  was  permitted,  when  the  firing  was 
over,  to  return  to  quarters. 

One  other  attempt  at  escape  was  made  in  the  course  of 
the  winter  which  secured  a  small  measure  of  success.  The 
path  taken  by  the  daily  water  parties  to  the  river,  covering 
a  distance  of  perhaps  a  hundred  yards,  passed  close  by  the 
open  furnace  of  a  foundry  in  which,  during  certain  days 
of  the  week,  work  was  carried  on  in  shaping  balls  for  the 
Confederate  cannon.  When  the  foundry  was  at  work,  the 
furnace  was,  of  course,  inaccessible  from  the  path;  but 
during  certain  days  of  the  week  the  fires  were,  for  some 
reason  or  other,  not  in  blast,  and  at  such  times  the  open 
furnace  adjoining  the  path  presented  a  possible  place  for 
the  disappearance  of  a  prisoner  from  the  water  party  with 


1865]  Escape  by  Furnace  405 

the  chance  of  escape  later  after  dark.  Early  in  the  win 
ter,  the  guards  had  made  a  point  of  restricting  the  water 
parties  to  a  small  group  of  four  or  six  or  eight.  The  men 
had  gone  out  in  even  numbers  because  even  the  Confeder 
ates  could  recognise  that,  as  the  result  of  limited  diet,  one 
prisoner  was  not  strong  enough  to  carry  a  bucket  alone. 
Later  in  the  season,  the  supervision  relaxed ;  the  Confeder 
ates  felt  that  the  chance  of  escape  was  small  and  even  if  the 
prisoner  might  succeed  in  getting  out  of  Danville,  the 
possibility  of  his  reaching  Federal  lines,  east,  west,  or 
north,  was  very  slight.  The  Yankees,  therefore,  had  per 
suaded  the  guards  to  increase  the  numbers  of  the  water 
parties;  the  tramp  to  the  river  made  a  little  break  in  the 
long  monotony  of  the  winter  days,  and  the  point  was 
also  made  that  many  of  the  prisoners  were  so  weak  that 
they  needed  to  be  relieved  of  part  of  the  carrying  burden. 
Some  of  the  men  had  in  these  tramps  to  the  river  cast 
their  eyes  upon  the  open  furnace  and  calculated  upon  the 
possibility  of  tumbling  into  it  and  lying  perdu  until 
nightfall.  The  suggestion  finally  took  shape  in  a  deliber 
ate  plan  and  lots  were  drawn  for  the  privilege  of  the  first 
try.  If  I  remember  rightly,  the  lot-drawing  was  restricted 
to  the  men  (at  best,  but  a  small  proportion  of  the  whole) 
who  had  available  shoes.  With  most  of  the  prisoners  the 
shoes  had  been  taken,  or  had  been  left  simply  because 
they  were  nearly  at  an  end,  so  that  by  the  middle  of  the 
winter,  the  majority  of  us  were  practically  barefoot. 

The  chap  who  got  the  first  chance  devoted  himself  for 
a  day  or  two,  with  no  little  restraint  upon  his  appetite, 
to  the  task  of  saving  a  few  crusts  of  the  rations  of  corn- 
bread.  He  also  picked  up  from  his  fellows  what  informa 
tion  he  could  in  regard  to  roads  out  of  Danville.  He  even 
risked  some  gossiping  with  the  guard,  securing  information, 
more  or  less  trustworthy,  as  to  the  position  of  the  nearest 
Rebel  forces.  On  the  day  fixed,  he  succeeded  without  be- 


406  Escape  by  Furnace  [1865 

ing  observed  by  the  guard  in  dropping  out  from  the  water 
party  and  in  rolling  into  the  open  furnace.  The  last  man 
in  the  party  kicked  off  his  fragment  of  shoe  in  the  mud 
and  stopped  with  his  fellow  (and  their  bucket)  to  put  it  on 
again.  The  guard,  who  brought  up  the  rear,  naturally 
stopped  too.  The  stoppage  was  made  just  before  the 
furnace  was  reached,  and  this  was  the  moment  selected 
by  the  candidate  for  freedom  to  tumble  into  the  hole. 

In  the  course  of  a  week  or  two,  a  second  fellow  got  off 
in  the  same  way  and  before  the  winter  was  over  four  men 
had  disappeared  from  our  ranks.  The  question  naturally 
occurs  as  to  the  method  adopted  for  concealing  the 
reduction  in  our  numbers.  The  sergeant  of  the  guard,  a 
genial  and  not  a  very  quick-witted- South  Carolinian, 
made  count  of  the  prisoners  each  morning  after  guard- 
mounting  and  it  was  necessary  that  his  count  should  tally 
in  numbers  with  the  roster  kept  by  Colonel  Smith,  the 
one-legged  officer  from  Maryland  who  was  in  charge  of 
the  prison.  There  was  no  roll-call  by  name  and  it  was 
necessary  simply  that  the  numbers  in  the  two  rooms  (the 
men  were  before  the  counting  driven  up  from  the  yard 
and  lower  room)  should  make  the  aggregate  called  for.  It 
made  no  difference  for  the  records  of  the  sergeant  how 
many  were  in  one  room  or  how  many  in  the  other.  Before 
the  first  man  got  away,  the  problem  of  the  counting  had 
been  considered  and  cared  for.  A  trap-door  was  cut 
through  the  floor  between  the  two  rooms  at  the  corner 
farthest  from  the  staircase.  We  still  had  available  the 
little  saw  which  had  been  prepared  by  notching  with  a 
pocket-knife  an  old  carving-knife.  Over  the  trap-door 
was  placed  a  prisoner,  covered  by  one  of  the  few  scraps 
of  blanket  that  were  available,  who  was  afflicted  with 
inflammatory  rheumatism.  There  was  really  no  neces 
sity  for  simulating  the  rheumatism  for  there  were  plenty 
of  cases  in  the  prison.  The  inspecting  officer  who  went 


An  Incorrect  Count  407 

over  the  floors  several  times  a  week  was  decent  enough 
to  respect  the  groans  of  the  fellow  lying  in  the  corner  and 
he  was  not  disturbed.  After  the  first  man  got  away,  it 
was  only  necessary  when  the  sergeant  had  completed  his 
count  in  the  lower  room,  to  pass  a  man  through  the  trap 
door  on  to  the  upper  floor.  This  was  done  while  the 
sergeant  was  coming  up  the  stairway.  The  sergeant 
felt  safe  in  his  count  as  long  as  nobody  was  permitted 
to  pass  him  on  the  stairs.  The  matter  became  a  little 
more  difficult  when  two  men  had  to  be  passed  up  on  the 
shoulders  of  their  fellows,  but  with  a  little  conversational 
bluffing  with  the  sergeant  on  the  stairs,  there  proved  to  be 
time  enough,  and  the  same  was  true  with  the  passing  of 
three.  When,  pretty  late  in  the  winter,  it  became  ne 
cessary  to  get  four  men  up,  it  was  decided  that  more  heroic 
measures  were  necessary  than  conversation  on  the  stairs. 
Two  of  the  prisoners  began  scuffling  at  the  top  of  the 
stairs  just  as  the  sergeant,  having  completed  his  count 
below,  was  coming  up.  The  scuffling  ended  in  an  "acci 
dent"  and  the  two  fellows  tumbled  down  the  stairs  carry 
ing  the  sergeant  with  them  in  their  fall.  Fortunately, 
nobody  was  seriously  hurt  and  there  was  plenty  of  time 
to  get  the  four  men  through  the  trap-door  and  to  replace 
under  his  blanket  the  rheumatic  patient. 

The  use  of  the  foundry  for  escapes  came  to  a  close, 
however,  shortly  after  the  passing  of  the  fourth  prisoner. 
Two  of  the  men  had  made  their  way  south-westward,  tak 
ing  the  chances  of  starvation  in  the  Great  Smoky  Moun 
tains,  while  two  had  preferred  the  risk  of  transit  through 
Virginia,  hoping  to  secure  from  friendly  darkies  food  and 
guidance.  Both  of  these  latter  were  captured  somewhere 
near  Richmond  as  they  were  approaching  Lee's  army, 
and  General  Winder,  the  Commissioner  of  Prisoners  in 
Richmond,  succeeded  under  cross-examination  in  finding 
out  from  one  or  from  both  that  they  came  from  Danville 


408  A  Recaptured  Prisoner  [1865 

Prison.  We  learned  from  one  of  the  guards  that  on  the  cap 
ture  of  number  one  an  inquiry  came  down  from  Winder 
to  Colonel  Smith  to  know  why  he  had  not  reported  the 
escape  of  his  prisoner.  With  the  record  before  him  that 
the  count  was  correct,  the  Colonel  sent  back  word  that 
there  was  some  blunder  or  misstatement  and  that  his 
prisoners  were  all  right.  When,  however,  a  day  or  two 
later,  there  came  the  report  of  the  capture  of  number  two, 
Smith  decided  that  he  must  himself  look  into  the  matter. 
We  were  all  driven  into  the  top  room  and  the  Colonel  made 
a  direct  count  and  called  over  the  roster  by  name.  When 
he  found  that  not  two  but  four  men  were  missing,  he  was  a 
very  angry  Marylander  indeed.  With  curious  inconse 
quence  he  began  to  growl  at  us  fellows  who  had  not  escaped 
for  the  wickedness  of  the  comrades  who  had.  We  laughed 
him  out  of  court  as  there  was  nothing  on  our  part  either 
to  be  ashamed  of  or  to  be  troubled  about.  It  is  my 
impression  that  the  Colonel  never  discovered  the  channel 
of  escape,  but  after  that  day  the  counting  was  always 
done  in  the  top  room  with  the  full  group  of  prisoners  and 
the  number  permitted  to  go  out  for  water  was  again 
restricted  and  was  carefully  checked  at  the  time  of  their 
return. 

The  prisoners  had,  of  course,  no  trustworthy  channels  of 
news  from  the  armies  in  the  front.  We  were  not  per 
mitted  to  secure  copies  of  the  Richmond  papers  which 
found  their  way  to  Danville,  and  the  guards,  men  and 
officers,  were  under  strict  injunctions  to  do  no  talking  with 
the  prisoners.  These  instructions  were,  however,  not 
carried  out  consistently.  The  officers,  mainly  veterans 
who  had  been  more  or  less  disabled  and  were  only  fit 
for  duty  on  the  reserve,  were  as  a  rule  unapproachable, 
but  it  proved  practicable  from  time  to  time  to  get  some 
thing  in  the  way  of  gossip  out  of  the  guards.  Some  of  the 
guards,  in  fact,  were  fairly  friendly  in  disposition.  They 


1865]  Poor  Grade  Guards  409 

were  not  the  material  out  of  which  effective  soldiers  could 
be  made.  The  majority  of  them  were  conscripts  and 
quite  a  number  had  been  brought  down  by  the  con 
scription  authorities  from  back  settlements  on  the  moun 
tainside.  It  is  my  memory  that  the  group  included  a 
number  of  fellows  who  were  not  full  witted,  sons  of  snuff- 
dipping  and  dirt-eating  mothers  and  of  very  "poor  white" 
fathers.  The  information  that  men  of  this  group  could 
give  to  us  was  in  itself  hardly  to  be  trusted,  but  even 
through  such  unsatisfactory  channels  the  scraps  of  news 
that  came  to  us  were  interesting  and  gave  some  cumu 
lative  indication  that  things  were  going  badly  with  the 
Confederacy. 

The  fact  that  a  number  of  the  guards  were  more  or  less 
half-witted  brought  occasional  trouble  that  would  not 
have  occurred  with  veteran  soldiers.  I  remember  one  day 
when  a  man  whose  position  was  next  to  me  on  the  floor 
was  washing  a  tin  cup  of  which  he  was  the  fortunate 
possessor;  the  window  was  open  or  the  pane  was  broken, 
and  to  avoid  wetting  the  floor,  he  held  the  cup  out  of 
the  window.  Through  pure  accident,  some  of  the  dripping 
water  fell  on  the  sentry  below.  The  sentry  turned  and 
without  a  moment's  warning  fired  up  at  the  window.  The 
ball  missed  the  delinquent  but  shattered  the  arm  of  a  man 
sitting  next,  and  in  this  case  the  wounded  chap,  in  feeble 
health  and  with  no  proper  surgical  treatment,  lost  his 
life.  Those  of  us  who  had  witnessed  the  shooting  put  a 
statement  into  shape  which  was  delivered  to  Colonel 
Smith  through  the  prison  adjutant,  in  which  we  demanded 
the  punishment  of  the  guard.  He  was  withdrawn  for  a 
time,  as  we  supposed  for  trial  and  for  punishment,  but  he 
returned  a  week  later  in  triumph,  carrying  the  chevrons 
of  a  sergeant.  In  place  of  being  punished,  he  had  been 
promoted.  The  greater  number,  however,  of  these  half 
witted  mountaineers,  as  stated,  were  by  no  means  keenly 


Bluebacks  for  Greenbacks  [1865 

interested  in  the  success  of  the  Confederacy.  Apart  from 
the  scraps  of  news  that  trickled  in  through  the  guards,  we 
had,  late  in  the  winter,  further  evidence  that  the  faith  in  the 
success  of  the  Confederacy  was  waning.  We  had  visits  from 
one  or  two  of  the  Hebrews  in  town,  mainly  tobacco  dealers, 
who  had  had  business  relations  with  Philadelphia  and  New 
York  and  Chicago  and  who  had,  therefore,  some  know 
ledge  of  the  names  of  merchants  and  other  leading  citizens 
in  these  cities.  These  dealers,  picking  out  from  the  lists  of 
prisoners  the  family  names  of  which  they  had  knowledge, 
were  offering  currency  in  exchange  drafts  on  fathers  or  on 
business  firms.  If  these  offers  had  come  earlier  in  the 
winter  they  could  have  been  utilised  for  securing  supplies 
and  funds  that  would  have  served  for  saving  life.  Even 
at  this  time,  the  moneys  thus  obtained  proved  valuable  in 
more  ways  than  one.  In  an  army  group,  and  particularly 
in  a  prison  group,  any  funds  in  the  hands  of  one  man 
are  equally  available  for  his  comrades.  A  few  thousand 
dollars  of  Confederate  currency  brought  in  in  this  way, 
late  in  March,  secured  additional  corn-bread  and  a  few 
dozen  pairs  of  shoes  and  also  some  blankets.  The  canny 
Hebrews  were  making  their  exchange  on  the  basis  of  about 
fifty  to  one.  The  actual  "value"  of  Confederate  cur 
rency  at  this  time  was  more  nearly  expressed  by  a  rate  of 
one  thousand  to  one.  Before  leaving  Danville,  I  had 
another  bit  of  evidence  in  regard  to  the  success  of  our  arms. 
I  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  save  my  tooth-brush  and  I 
was,  therefore,  classed  with  what  came  to  be  known  as  the 
"tooth-brush  aristocracy"  of  the  prison.  About  a  dozen 
men  altogether  had  tooth-brushes,  and  partly  for  the 
purpose  of  preserving  them  from  theft  or  from  dirt,  and 
partly  possibly  with  a  certain  feeling  of  ostentation, 
these  tooth-brushes  were  carried  in  the  buttonholes  of 
our  blouses.  One  or  two  of  them  in  the  possession  of  men 
with  skill  for  handicraft  were,  in  the  course  of  the  winter, 


i86sl  The  Value  of  a  Tooth-Brush  411 

beautifully  carved,  the  subjects  being  usually  of  a  serious 
character  such  as  death's  heads,  skeletons,  etc.  The 
lieutenant  of  the  guard,  a  one-armed  Virginian,  made 
me  an  offer  one  morning,  with  some  urgency,  of  $300  for 
my  tooth-brush,  which  had  already  been  in  use  for  months. 
I  declined  the  offer  but  put  to  him  with  some  appearance 
of  surprise  a  question  as  to  the  supplies  of  English  tooth 
brushes  that  I  supposed  could  still  reach  the  Confederacy 
by  way  of  Wilmington.  "Oh!"  said  he,  "but  that 
channel  is  now — "  and  then  recollecting  himself,  "No,  no, 
I  do  not  mean  to  say  that."  I  could  get  from  him  no 
more  information.  The  reference  to  the  fall  of  Wilming 
ton  was,  however,  confirmed  later  by  gossip  with  a  friendly 
North  Carolinian,  and  we  realised  that  the  last  channel 
of  communication  between  the  Confederacy  and  its 
British  friends  had  been  closed.  The  cordon  was  being 
drawn  tight,  and  the  days  of  the  Confederacy  were 
numbered. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  before  the  long  winter  came  to 
an  end,  to  find  myself  included  with  a  small  detachment  of 
officers  who  had  been  selected  to  receive  and  to  distribute 
supplies  for  our  prisoners.  In  December,  1864,  as  a  result 
of  the  pressure  brought  to  bear  upon  the  Administration 
by  the  friends  of  the  prisoners  who  were  indignant  and 
discouraged  at  the  long  delay  in  the  exchange,  the  author 
ities  in  Washington  entered  into  an  arrangement  with  the 
authorities  in  Richmond  under  which  an  officer  of  the 
rank  of  general  was  to  be  paroled  on  either  side  and  was 
to  have  the  privilege  of  selecting  three  or  four  assistants. 
Supplies  were  to  be  sent  through  the  lines  under  flag  of 
truce  covering  the  things  most  needed  by  the  prisoners 
and  these  supplies  were  to  be  distributed  by  the  paroled 
officers.  Our  Government  acted  promptly  under  the 
agreement  arrived  at  and  before  the  close  of  December 
liberated  on  parole  General  Beale  of  Georgia,  who  selected 


412  On  Parole  [1865 

three  or  four  officers  to  help  him  in  the  work.  Some 
cotton  was  sent  under  flag  of  truce  from  Savannah  and 
was  sold  on  the  cotton  exchange  in  New  York  for  the 
account  of  General  Beale.  It  is  my  impression  that  the 
market  price  of  cotton  in  December,  1864,  was  about  a 
dollar  and  a  quarter  a  pound  and  not  very  many  bales 
were,  therefore,  required  to  put  in  the  hands  of  General 
Beale  all  the  funds  that  he  could  utilise  to  advantage.  If 
the  execution  of  this  arrangement  had  been  delayed  two 
or  three  weeks  longer,  it  would  not  have  been  possible  to 
ship  Confederate  cotton  from  Savannah,  as  on  Christmas 
day,  1864,  the  city  came  into  the  hands  of  General  Sher 
man.  The  authorities  in  Richmond  delayed  with  their 
part  of  the  undertaking  and  it  was  not  until  1865  that 
General  Hayes  of  Boston,  the  senior  officer  in  our  prison, 
secured  his  parole.  He  selected  as  his  first  assistant 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Charles  Hooper,  an  old  Boston  friend, 
and  he  was  good  enough  to  select  me  for  his  second  associ 
ate.  I  had  known  the  General  but  slightly,  and  as  there 
was  a  great  pressure  for  the  appointment,  I  was  somewhat 
puzzled  at  my  good  fortune,  but  there  was,  of  course, 
nothing  to  do  but  accept,  with  appreciation  of  the  com 
pliment.  Twenty  years  later,  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
rendering  some  little  financial  service  to  General  Hayes, 
whose  business  operations  had  .gone  wrong. 

A  fourth  officer,  whose  name  I  have  forgotten,  was 
selected  to  take  charge  of  the  distribution  of  supplies  first 
in  Danville  and  later  in  Salisbury,  North  Carolina.  Hayes, 
Hooper,  and  myself  were  shipped  up  to  Richmond  where 
the  General  secured  quarters  in  a  tobacco  warehouse  not 
far  from  Libby's  ship  chandlery.  A  sergeant  from  one  of 
our  coloured  regiments  was  paroled  and  put  at  our  service 
as  a  "junior  member  of  the  staff."  He  served  as  our 
orderly.  By  means  of  our  parole,  we  came  promptly  into 
correspondence  with  friends  at  home  and  secured  a  change 


On  Parole  in  Richmond  413 

of  clothing  and  some  soap.  After  a  series  of  months  of 
experience  of  dirt  which  had  almost  dulled  the  sensibilities 
of  gentlemen,  it  was  possible  again  to  recover  our  physical 
self-respect.  We  also  received  one  or  two  letters  from 
home,  but  we  had  been  cautioned  alike  by  the  authorities 
of  Richmond  and  in  Washington  that,  with  our  responsi 
bilities  as  paroled  officers  and  with  opportunities  for 
observation  such  as  we  had  not  before  enjoyed,  letter- 
writing  was  undesirable. 

It  was  my  duty  to  go,  I  think,  twice  a  week,  to  the 
landing  place  on  the  James  River,  a  little  below  the  Libby 
building,  to  meet  the  flag  of  truce  boat.  We  received  by 
the  boat  blankets,  shoes,  and  woollen  shirts;  and  there 
may  have  been  some  boxes  of  trousers.  I  had  difficulty 
in  getting  the  stores  across  the  town  to  the  warehouse  as 
signed  to  us.  The  men  on  the  flag  of  truce  boat  had  no 
paroles  and  were  not  allowed  to  land,  while  the  darkies 
upon  whom  Richmond  usually  depended  for  trucking 
service  had  been  detailed  for  work  in  the  trenches  at  the 
front.  Fortunately  I  had  money  enough  to  purchase  any 
service  that  was  available  and  I  am  glad  to  remember  some 
courtesy  extended  to  me  at  least  once,  at  the  time  of  a 
breakdown  near  Main  Street  of  a  rickety  old  cart  on 
which  I  had  a  couple  of  cases,  by  the  team  of  a  one-armed 
Confederate  quartermaster.  Further  service  was  re 
quired  to  enable  me  to  get  the  blankets,  shoes,  etc.,  to 
Libby  Prison  and  to  Castle  Thunder.  Under  the  con 
ditions  of  our  parole,  we  had  promised  to  go  nowhere  in 
the  town  excepting  on  the  most  direct  route  between  our 
warehouse  and  the  two  prisons.  It  is  my  memory  that  at 
this  time  the  prison  camp  on  Belle-Isle,  the  island  in  the 
middle  of  the  James  where  our  men  had  through  successive 
winters  been  permitted  to  freeze  to  death,  had  been 
abandoned.  I  know  that  I  did  not  have  occasion  to 
visit  Belle-Isle  and  that  I  should  have  been  sent  there  if  any 


414  On  Parole  in  Richmond  [1865 

prisoners  were  still  on  the  island.  My  clean  blue  uniform 
made  me  a  little  prominent  in  Main  Street,  where  the  pre 
vailing  tint  for  the  men  of  the  rank  and  file  was  a  faded 
butternut.  The  dress  of  the  Confederate  officers  was 
grey,  but  at  this  stage  of  the  war  their  uniforms  were  for 
the  most  part  sadly  worn  and  mud-stained.  The  mills 
in  Jackson,  Mississippi,  and  in  Augusta,  Georgia,  that  had 
provided  the  grey  cloth  had  been  destroyed,  the  first  by 
Grant  and  the  second  by  Sherman,  and  by  1865  the  sup 
plies  must  have  been  nearly  exhausted.  It  is  my  memory 
that  the  women  of  the  town  were  at  this  time  dressed 
chiefly  in  black.  Many  of  them  were,  of  course,  mourners 
for  fathers,  husbands,  brothers,  or  friends,  and  black,  as 
far  as  black  could  be  obtained,  seemed  for  their  time  of 
sadness  the  only  harmonious  garb.  It  is  the  impression 
of  sadness  and  of  apprehension  that  remains  in  my  memory 
from  this  little  back  glimpse  of  the  capital  of  the  Confeder 
acy  during  the  last  weeks  of  the  war.  It  was  only  after 
coming  into  touch  with  the  people  in  the  beleaguered 
capital  and  taking  hasty  looks  at  the  faces  of  the  staff 
officers  as  they  passed,  that  I  came  to  realise  what  we  had, 
of  course,  already  guessed,  that  the  breakdown  must  be 
very  near. 

I  do  not  recall  at  any  time  being  insulted  in  the  streets, 
although  I  met  with  not  a  few  inquisitive  glances  and  now 
and  then  was  called  upon  by  the  provost-guards  to  answer 
questions  and  to  show  my  papers.  My  parole,  counter 
signed  by  General  Winder's  adjutant,  was,  of  course,  my 
protection.  Earlier  in  the  war  I  should,  I  think,  have  met 
with  friction,  not  of  course  from  the  better  grade  of  sol 
diers  but  from  the  half-trained  fellows  and  particularly 
from  country  boys  with  a  little  whiskey  on  board.  I 
imagine  that  by  this  time  whiskey  like  other  things  was 
scarce.  I  can  recall  but  a  few  instances  of  drunkenness  in 
the  streets,  but  the  people,  men  and  women,  looked  hungry, 


1865]  On  Parole  in  Richmond  415 

as  well  they  might.  The  women  were  giving  their  time 
to  the  nursing  of  the  sick  and  wounded  and  were,  doubt 
less,  also  getting  along  with  short  rations  in  order  to  help 
out  the  hospitals. 

I  got  one  glimpse  of  the  tall  figure  of  Jefferson  Davis  and 
hesitated  for  a  moment  as  to  the  lifting  of  my  hat.  I  was 
quite  ready  to  show  respect  for  a  leader  who  had  through 
the  four  years  of  struggle  shown  such  persistency,  courage, 
and  devotion  to  his  cause ;  but  when  I  recalled  the  respon 
sibility  of  Davis  for  the  deaths  at  Belle-Isle,  in  Libby,  and 
at  Andersonville,  my  hand  absolutely  refused  to  reach  up 
to  my  cap  and  remained  glued  in  my  pocket.  If  I  had 
had  the  fortune  to  meet  General  Lee,  my  salute  would 
have  been  both  natural  and  heartfelt.  I  believe  that  I 
shared  the  feelings  of  practically  all  of  the  men  who  had 
studied  the  history  of  the  war  in  being  ready  to  render  to 
Lee  homage,  not  merely  for  the  magnificent  defence  that 
he  had  made  under  enormous  discouragements  and  with  a 
constant  decrease  in  his  resources,  but  for  the  exceptionally 
fine  nature  and  character  of  the  man. 

I  recall  one  instance  of  annoyance  in  connection  with 
my  duty  in  visiting  the  prisons.  Shortly  after  the  success 
ful  attempt  at  escape  from  Libby  by  means  of  the  tunnel 
that  had  been  projected  by  Colonel  Rose  in  the  winter 
of  63-64,  Major  Turner  had  added  to  the  Libby  guard 
a  trained  bloodhound.  The  hound  went  out  with  each 
relief  of  the  guard,  that  is  to  say  every  four  hours,  bringing 
up  the  rear. 

At  this  time  the  dog  was  kept  at  the  guard-house 
adjoining  Castle  Thunder;  I  remember  my  annoyance  on 
my  first  visit  to  this  prison  when  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard  amused  himself,  having  lengthened  the  leash, 
in  seeing  how  near  he  could  let  the  dog  get  to  the  little 
Yankee  without ' '  chawing"  him  up.  I  managed  with  some 
difficulty  to  evade  the  dog  and  to  get  in  at  the  prison  door. 


416  Castle  Thunder  [1865 

I  succeeded  also  on  my  return  in  slipping  out  in  safety 
when  the  dog's  attention  was  turned  the  other  way.  I 
then  made  my  way  to  the  captain  of  the  guard  and  sub 
mitted  a  protest.  I  pointed  out  that  my  duty  made  it 
necessary  to  visit  the  prison  nearly  every  day  and  I 
emphasised  further  that  the  risk  of  being  "chawed  up" 
by  a  bloodhound  was  not  one  of  the  ordinary  perils  of 
war  that  I  was  under  obligation  to  encounter.  The 
captain,  a  one-legged  veteran,  accepted  my  view;  the 
sergeant  was  reprimanded,  and  the  dog's  chain  having 
been  shortened,  my  passage  to  Castle  Thunder  was  left 
free. 

Castle  Thunder  had  been  reserved  for  prisoners  classed 
as  "political. "  These  prisoners  included  citizens  who  had 
come  in  one  way  or  another  into  conflict  with  the  Con 
federate  authorities,  that  is  who  were  suspected  of  being 
spies,  together  with  others  who  had  resisted  conscription. 
I  do  not  know  what  routine  was  pursued  in  regard  to  the 
length  of  imprisonment  given  to  suspected  parties  con 
cerning  whose  criminality  or  delinquency  no  evidence 
could  be  secured.  There  were  men  in  Castle  Thunder  in 
March,  '65,  who  told  me  they  had  been  there  for  more 
than  a  year.  I  was  not  permitted,  however,  to  carry 
on  individual  conversation  with  these  prisoners.  In 
Libby  I  was  left  free  to  talk,  with  our  own  men  as  I 
chose,  but  in  my  visits  to  Castle  Thunder  I  was  always 
accompanied  by  the  adjutant  or  by  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard  who  had  the  right  to  listen  to  everything  that 
passed.  The  prisoners  included  certain  men  from  the 
loyal  districts  of  West  Virginia  and  Eastern  Tennessee 
and  it  was  for  these  groups  that  my  supplies  were  more 
particularly  utilised. 

I  had  spoken  of  having  enough  money  for  the  expendi 
tures  that  I  was  required  to  make  in  moving  the  supplies 
across  the  town.  When  the  flag  of  truce  boat  made  its 


i865]  A  Chest  of  Money  417 

first  trip  up  the  James  to  connect  with  our  group,  I  found 
with  the  other  cases  a  chest  of  Confederate  money.  Some 
body  in  Washington  had  the  common-sense  to  remember 
that  we  should  need  money  and  as  blocks  of  Confederate 
bills  had  been  captured  from  time  to  time  during  the 
war,  there  was  ample  supply  for  the  purpose.  I  receipted 
for  one  chest  of  Confederate  currency,  precise  " value" 
unknown.  It  would,  in  fact,  have  taken  a  very  brilliant 
financier  indeed  to  determine  the  proper  value  of  a  Con 
federate  dollar  in  the  last  of  February,  1865.  Forty 
days  later,  its  exchange  value  had  disappeared  altogether. 
As  far,  however,  as  the  face  value  of  the  bills  was  con 
cerned,  we  were  rich.  We  must  have  had  millions 
in  our  possession.  In  sending  our  orderly  to  market  in 
the  morning,  I  used  to  go  to  the  chest  and  take  out  an 
armful  of  money  with  which  the  market  basket  was 
crammed  to  the  top.  The  sergeant  had  orders  to  pur 
chase  anything  that  there  was.  Anything  that  there  was, 
sounded,  of  course,  like  a  carte  blanche  for  delicacies,  but  as 
a  fact,  the  sergeant  had  very  little  occasion  to  use  his 
discretion.  There  was,  practically,  nothing  to  buy  ex 
cepting  corn  on  the  cob,  a  little  coarse  corn-meal,  and 
an  occasional  piece  of  mule  steak.  The  prices  paid  for  our 
share  of  this  provender  must  have  gone  up  each  morning 
into  the  thousands. 

I  remember  one  gala  day  when  the  sergeant  brought 
back  an  egg.  How  any  hapless  fowl  had  succeeded  in 
getting  time  or  quiet  during  these  strenuous  days  for  the 
laying  of  an  egg  between  the  opposing  lines,  we  never 
discovered,  but  the  egg  proved  of  no  service  either  to 
the  Confederacy  or  to  the  Union.  General  Hayes  said 
mildly,  "Gentlemen,  as  you  know,  I  do  not  usually  lay 
stress  on  the  privileges  of  rank,  but  I  think  this  egg  belongs 
to  me. "  The  Colonel  and  I  naturally  assented,  and  when 
the  egg  had  been  boiled  and  the  General  had  tapped  the 


418  The  Prisoners'  Money  [1865 

top  with  his  jack-knife,  there  was  no  further  question  in 
our  minds  as  far  as  "rank"  was  concerned.  The  General 
or  anybody  else  might  have  that  egg.  It  must  have  been 
lying  between  the  lines  for  months. 

The  prisoners  entering  Libby  underwent  a  pretty 
thorough  search  and  were  made  to  give  up  money,  knives, 
watches,  and  valuables  of  any  kind.  In  an  earlier  page, 
reference  was  made  to  a  little  memorandum  book  in 
which  the  adjutant  had  recorded  against  the  name  of 
each  prisoner  the  property  that  had  been  taken  from  him. 
"When  you  are  exchanged,"  he  said  cheerfully,  "these 
things  will,  of  course,  be  given  back  to  you,  but  we  must 
not  run  the  risk  of  having  our  guards  demoralised  with 
Yankee  properties." 

This  process  of  receiving  and  "storing"  Yankee  prop 
erty  had  been  going  on  for  four  years,  but  I  never  heard 
of  an  exchanged  prisoner  who  had  succeeded  in  getting 
back  any  of  the  property  so  taken  care  of  and  I  never 
heard  of  any  such  property  being  restored. 

I  asked  the  General  whether  it  was  not  a  good  time 
to  make  application  for  the  return  of  our  money.  "That 
is  a  capital  idea,  Adjutant,"  said  Hayes,  "they  have  got 
$400  of  mine  'on  storage*  which  I  should  like  to  get." 
Colonel  Hooper  added  a  similar  word,  and  with  a  card 
from  the  General  I  called  first  -at  the  office  of  Commissioner 
Ould  and  later  at  that  of  General  Winder  and  made  formal 
application  for  the  amounts  we  had  on  record  as  belong 
ing  to  each  of  us.  General  Winder  was  sympathetically 
civil  in  the  matter  but  not  very  satisfactory.  "It  is  too 
bad,  Adjutant, "  he  said,  "that  the  officer  who  had  charge 
of  that  record  has  recently  died  and  his  accounts  seem  to 
be  in  some  confusion,  but  I  will  look  into  the  matter  and 
will  let  you  know  later."  A  second  visit  brought  no 
more  satisfactory  information.  A  week  later  we  had  word 
that  the  arrangements  for  the  exchange  had  finally  been 


1865]  The  Exchange  Boat  419 

completed,  and  that  a  date  was  fixed  early  in  March  for 
going  down  the  river  on  the  exchange  boat.  I  tried  a 
third  visit  at  Winder's  office,  but  this  time  he  was  clever 
enough  to  evade  me.  I  went  day  after  day  until  finally  I 
caught  him  again. 

" General  Winder,"  I  said,  "General  Hayes  asked  me 
to  report  to  you  with  his  respects  that  we  should  either 
receive  the  moneys  that  belong  to  us  or  a  definite  word 
from  yourself  as  to  the  report  that  we  are  to  make  to  the 
authorities  in  Washington.  It  is  for  you,  sir,  to  say 
what  nature  this  report  shall  take. "  Winder  understood, 
of  course,  perfectly  that  if  we  did  not  get  the  money  we 
should  place  upon  him  the  responsibility  for  the  appropria 
tion.  "  Come  in  to-morrow  morning,  Adjutant, "  he  said, 
" and  I  will  see  if  we  can  get  the  matter  adjusted. "  "We 
are  leaving  to-morrow,  General,"  I  said,  "but  I  will 
report."  I  went  at  ten  and  again  at  eleven  and  stayed 
until  I  heard  the  whistle  of  the  flag  of  truce  boat,  and 
then  giving  it  up  as  a  bad  job,  I  made  a  short  cut  for  the 
pier  and  for  freedom.  I  think  it  is  probable  that  on  my 
last  walk,  or  rather  run,  across  Main  Street,  I  did  a  little 
damning  of  the  Confederacy  j 

On  the  boat,  I  rejoined  my  old  comrades  from  Danville. 
Most  of  them  were  in  somewhat  better  condition  than 
when  I  had  left  Danville  a  fortnight  back,  as  they  had 
been  able,  through  the  moneys  secured  from  the  Hebrew 
merchants  in  Danville,  to  get  something  to  eat  and  to 
replace  their  shoes  and  blankets.  The  Danville  prisoners 
had  also  received  a  portion  of  the  supplies  that  came  up 
the  James  on  the  flag  of  truce  boat.  A  group  of  the 
men  had,  however,  been  too  much  broken  down  by  the 
hardships  of  the  winter  to  be  in  a  condition  to  recup 
erate  even  with  something  to  eat  and  with  the  pres 
ent  certainty  of  freedom.  The  men  with  whom  the 
scurvy  had  worked  badly — that  is  to  say,  on  whose 


420  Slim  Jim  [1865 

limbs  the  trouble  had  eaten  into  the  bone,  were  weak 
ened,  and  as  I  understand  permanently  weakened,  in 
the  use  of  their  legs.  With  many,  the  digestion  had 
been  entirely  broken  down  by  the  attempt  to  manage  the 
coarse  corn-bread  into  which  had  been  ground,  as  stated, 
all  manner  of  dirt  and  vermin.  Most  serious,  however, 
was  the  condition  of  those  who,  partly  through  physical 
debility  and  partly  through  lack  of  will-power,  had  lost 
the  control  of  their  minds.  There  were  not  a  few  poor 
chaps  who  had  fallen  into  a  condition  of  idiocy  and  who  sat 
on  the  floor,  twirling  their  thumbs.  I  recall  among  these 
one  exceptionally  long  chap  who  passed  by  the  name  of 
"Slim  Jim"  or  the  " Swamp  Angel."  He  had  belonged 
to  the  force  with  which  Gilmore  was  besieging  Charleston 
and  had  lost  his  way  in  the  swamp  in  one  of  the  attempts 
that  was  made  to  cut  the  road  between  Charleston  and 
Savannah.  His  exceptional  height,  or  rather  length, 
because  he  was  so  weakened  that  he  rarely  stood  up, 
gave  the  text  to  the  story  that  he  was  one  of  those  that 
had  been  detailed  to  make  the  foundation  for  Gilmore 's 
famous  gun,  the  Swamp  Angel.  The  story  was  that  Gil- 
more  had  fixed  the  spot  where  his  big  gun  was  to  be 
placed  which  with  a  range  of  six  miles  was  expected  to 
throw  shells  into  the  armoury  at  Charleston.  The  artillery 
captain  who  was  charged  with  the  task  of  preparing 
the  foundation  for  the  gun  reported  that  the  place  was 
a  swamp  and  that  no  firm  foundation  could  be  con 
structed.  He  received  a  peremptory  word  from  Gilmore 
with  the  command  that  the  platform  must  be  com 
pleted  within  a  certain  time  and  that  he  could  make  re 
quisition  for  anything  that  was  necessary  for  the  work. 
The  captain  made  his  requisition  for  so  many  beams  and 
so  many  boxes  of  sand  and,  as  the  story  ran,  for  twenty 
men  fifteen  feet  long.  He  apparently  secured  the  men 
for  the  platform  was  constructed  and  the  gun,  entitled  the 


Gushing  and  the  Albemarle  421 

Swamp  Angel,  succeeded  in  throwing  shells  into  Charles 
ton,  six  miles  distant.  As  far  as  length  was  concerned, 
Slim  Jim  might  have  been  one  of  the  men,  but  when  we 
saw  him  he  never  could  have  handled  a  sand  box. 

One  of  the  men  who  came  down  the  river  in  good  shape 
was  Paymaster  Frank  Swan,  a  cousin  of  the  young 
Dorchester  lady  whom  I  afterwards  married.  He  had 
been  a  volunteer  with  the  party  led  by  Lieutenant  Gushing 
in  the  daring  and  successful  attempt  to  blow  up  the 
Rebel  ram  Albemarle.  Of  the  fifteen  men  in  the  party,  I 
believe  that  but  three  escaped,  the  group  fortunately 
including  Gushing  himself.  Some  were  drowned  in  the 
sinking  of  their  torpedo  boat;  others  fell  under  the  first 
fire  from  the  Albemarle  or  from  the  pier  to  which  the 
Albemarle  was  fastened;  two  or  three  were  lost  in  the 
swamp  trying  to  make  their  way  back  to  the  shore,  and 
the  rest  were  captured.  Swan  was  the  only  one  of  the 
group  who  happened  to  be  brought  to  Danville  and  his 
account  of  the  progress  of  the  work  of  closing  in  on  the 
doomed  Confederacy  gave  not  a  little  encouragement 
during  those  last  weeks  of  the  long  winter  to  the  hungry 
prisoners  at  Danville. 

We  were  able,  in  meeting  on  the  flag  of  truce  boat  the 
comrades  from  Danville,  to  exchange  experiences  for  the 
weeks  immediately  preceding.  Some  of  the  men  had, 
since  I  had  left  the  prison,  passed  over  to  the  "majority," 
but  the  group  was  on  the  whole  in  somewhat  better 
condition  than  when  I  had  last  seen  them.  They  spoke 
with  some  amusement  of  their  trip,  fatiguing  as  it  had 
been,  and  particularly  of  an  incident  of  their  arrival  in 
Richmond.  The  funds  that  had,  as  before  related,  come 
into  the  hands  of  the  prisoners  from  certain  Danville 
merchants  were  used  not  only  for  the  purchasing  of 
much-needed  supplies  for  themselves  and  their  comrades, 
but  for  securing  a  few  bottles  of  applejack.  The  older 


422  Applejack  and  the  Guards  [1865 

men  realised  that  strong  drink  could  not  be  safely  used 
by  any  of  their  hungry  crowd  but  they  thought  it  as  well 
to  keep  the  guards  in  good  humour,  and  with  freedom 
and  home  now  in  the  near  future  their  disposition  to 
these  guards  was  in  fact  not  unfriendly.  There  was  no 
difficulty  in  getting  the  guards  into  good  humour;  but 
the  thing  was  done  a  little  too  thoroughly.  By  the  time 
the  train  reached  Richmond  (and  in  connection  with  the 
condition  of  the  track  and  the  frequent  shuntings,  the 
journey  to  Richmond  was  a  long  one),  the  guards  were, 
with  very  few  exceptions,  so  far  under  the  influence  of  the 
applejack  that  they  were  in  no  shape  to  march  across  the 
city.  It  was  far  on  into  the  night  hours  and  the  captain 
in  charge  of  the  train  was  unwilling  to  leave  the  prisoners 
exposed  through  the  wintry  night  on  the  platform  of  the 
station.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  evidently  not  possible 
to  muster  enough  sober  men  to  make  the  march  across  the 
city  and  to  deliver  the  prisoners,  according  to  his  orders, 
to  the  officers  in  charge  at  Libby.  Our  senior  officers 
realised  his  difficulty  and  proffered  their  assistance. 
"  Don't  bother  yourself,  captain,  about  marching  us  across 
the  city.  We  will  march  ourselves  across  and  you  can 
report  to  Libby  with  your  guard  in  the  morning  and  call 
your  roll  and  complete  your  delivery.  Our  men  will  not 
be  likely  to  be  absentees.  They  all  know  that  any  one 
not  on  hand  to-morrow  morning  when  that  roll  is  called 
will  miss  his  chance  for  the  exchange.  They  are  not 
fools  enough  to  take  any  such  risk. "  The  captain  realised 
that  this  was  the  only  course  to  be  followed  and  our 
prisoners,  about  two  hundred  in  all,  comprising  in  this 
group  only  the  officers,  started  on  their  tramp  across  the 
city.  Some  of  them  honestly  became  lost.  It  was  dark, 
and  Richmond  was  not  at  that  time  giving  much  atten 
tion  to  street  lighting  and  but  few  of  the  men  had  had 
any  knowledge  of  the  topography.  Others  lost  them- 


i865]  < ' We  Must  Get  into  Libby"  423 

selves  for  fun,  walking  about  in  one  part  or  other  of  the 
city  in  order  to  get  what  impression  they  could,  even  by 
night,  of  the  capital  of  the  Confederacy.  They  risked 
nothing  because  when  accosted,  as  occasionally  they  were, 
by  a  provost-guard,  they  were  able  to  reply  that  they 
were  Yankee  prisoners  due  at  Libby  who  had  lost  their 
way.  The  result  was  that  all  through  the  long  hours 
of  the  night,  Sergeant  Turner  of  Libby,  whom  our  men 
had  no  reason  to  be  fond  of,  was  called  up  from  ten 
minutes  to  ten  minutes  to  open  his  door  for  a  Yankee 
prisoner.  The  cry  was  always  the  same,  "  Please  let  us  in. 
We  must  get  into  Libby  Prison ;  we  have  no  other  place  to 
go  to. "  It  really  sounded  very  pathetic,  but  it  was  the 
first  and  only  time  in  which  Libby  Prison  had  been  sought 
as  a  place  of  refuge.  The  sergeant  did  his  full  share  of  the 
damning  of  the  impudent  "  Yanks,"  but  with  the  Major 
in  charge  of  the  prison  in  his  bunk  in  the  adjacent  room, 
and  with  the  knowledge  that  the  roll  was  to  be  called  in 
the  morning,  he  did  not  dare  do  anything  but  admit  the 
applicants  for  a  last  night's  hospitality  of  Libby. 

The  historian  (writing  fifty  years  later)  may  recall, 
with  a  slight  alteration,  the  lines  of  Omar: 

And  they  who  stood  before  (the  prison) 
Shouted — Open  then  the  door! 
You  know  how  little  while  we  have  to  stay, 
And,  once  departed,  may  return  no  more. 

Our  flag  of  truce  boat  stopped  at  City  Point  just  long 
enough  to  tranship  the  prisoners  to  the  vessel  that  took  us 
to  Annapolis,  so  that  we  had  only  a  momentary  glimpse  of 
the  great  base  from  which  Grant's  army  drew  its  supplies. 
If  I  remember  rightly,  the  day  of  our  release  was  the 
third  of  March,  that  is  to  say  four  weeks  before  the  final 
battles  which  broke  through  Lee's  defensive  lines.  I 
know  that  the  talk  of  our  men  with  whom  we  came  into 


424  Annapolis  [1865] 

touch  during  our  hour's  sojourn  on  the  pier  was  all 
encouraging ;  the  war  was,  they  said,  nearly  at  an  end  and 
the  boys  would  soon  be  going  home. 

We  prisoners  were  not  permitted  to  journey  direct  to 
the  several  homes  awaiting  us.  It  was  considered  best  to 
put  us  into  the  hospital  camp  at  Annapolis  for  a  process 
of  fumigation,  cleaning,  and  toning  up.  The  prison  rags 
had  to  be  gotten  rid  of  and  it  was  thought  better  that 
the  vermin  from  the  Confederacy  carried  by  these  rags 
should  be  buried  in  Annapolis  rather  than  be  permitted 
to  infect  decent  homes  in  the  North.  General  Hayes 
made  claim  for  a  little  different  treatment  for  himself 
and  his  two  associates,  pointing  out  that  we  had  had  a 
fortnight  for  the  work  of  cleaning  ourselves  and  that  we 
could  claim  to  be  fit  for  decent  society;  and  as  a  result, 
our  stay  in  Annapolis  was  shortened.  Some  of  the 
prisoners  never  left  Annapolis  at  all;  with  the  best  of 
medical  treatment,  they  could  not  regain  sufficient 
strength  for  the  further  journey  and  they  "joined  the 
majority"  in  the  army  cemetery  beyond  the  Naval 
Academy. 


XVIII 
THe  End  of  tKe  War 

I  HAD  a  sojourn  of  about  two  weeks  with  the  home 
circle  and  was  glad  to  find  that  there  was  no  require 
ment  for  a  longer  furlough.  I  had  stood  the  strain  of 
the  winter's  privations  better  than  most  of  my  comrades. 
It  was  the  fact  that  in  prison  as  on  the  march,  the  little 
fellows  on  the  whole  came  out  much  the  best.  They 
seemed  to  have  been  less  undermined  by  the  small  ration 
(the  ration  was,  in  fact,  equal  for  all  sizes  of  men)  and  they 
had  better  average  vitality  for  resisting  the  other  ills  of 
prison  life.  As  far  as  I  could  find  out  from  later  reports, 
but  very  few  of  the  prisoners  who  were  exchanged  as  late 
as  March,  1865,  were  permitted  to  go  back  to  the  front. 
They  were,  in  fact,  not  needed  and  the  army  surgeons 
decided  that  it  was  better  for  them  to  finish  their  recuper 
ation  in  their  homes.  I  do  not  claim  that  I  had  any 
special  martial  ardour,  but  as  I  had  seen  something  of  the 
bothersome  side  of  war  life,  I  was  naturally  desirous  of 
being  on  hand  at  the  close  of  the  operations. 

I  learned  from  Washington  that  the  division  of  the  I9th 
Army  Corps  to  which  my  regiment,  the  iy6th  New  York, 
belonged,  had  after  the  close  of  the  campaign  in  the  Shen- 
andoah,  been  sent  to  the  North  Carolina  coast.  It  was, 
it  seemed,  a  part  of  Grant's  plan  for  concentrating  his 
forces  on  the  last  armies  of  the  Confederacy  that  Sherman 

425 


426  The  Great  Dismal  Swamp  [1865 

in  his  march  northward  from  Savannah  should  have  the 
co-operation  in  North  Carolina  of  all  the  troops  that  could 
be  spared  from  the  operations  in  Virginia.  Of  my  journey 
to  North  Carolina,  the  experience  that  remains  most 
clearly  in  my  memory  was  the  trip  through  the  Dismal 
Swamp.  My  transportation  ticket  took  me  first  from 
New  York  to  Norfolk,  where  I  found  a  little  canal-boat 
that  had  been  fitted  with  an  engine  and  that  was  used  by 
the  Government  for  connection  by  way  of  the  Dismal 
Swamp  canal  between  Norfolk  and  the  posts  on  Albemarle 
and  Pamlico  Sounds.  The  boat  carried  medical  stores,  a 
group  of  navy  chaps  under  the  command  of  a  lieutenant, 
and  half  a  dozen  passengers,  all  like  myself  veterans 
coming  back  to  the  front.  The  navy  lieutenant  was 
experimenting  with  a  new  gun  which  must,  I  think,  have 
been  the  precursor  of  the  later  Gatling.  The  gun,  which 
was  mounted  on  the  bow  of  the  boat,  was  "fed"  by  the 
pouring  of  cartridges  into  a  kind  of  hopper.  The  gun  was 
discharged  through  the  turning  of  a  crank,  throwing  a 
volley  of  bullets  which  must  have  had  the  effect  of  small 
grape-shot  or  of  a  volley  from  a  magnified  shotgun. 
The  range  was  very  short,  only  two  or  three  hundred 
feet,  but  this  was  a  matter  "of  no  great  importance  for 
the  defence  of  a  boat  in  a  narrow  canal  the  shores  of 
which  were  for  the  most  part  heavily  wooded.  The 
purpose  of  the  gun  was  to  get  a  sprinkling  fire  upon 
any  opponents  who  might  be  lying  in  the  bushes  along 
the  shore.  The  boat  had  been  attacked  upon  one  or  two 
previous  trips  and  this  was  the  first  journey  with  the  new 
gun.  Some  experimental  firing  was  done  before  we  got 
into  the  zone  of  danger  and  the  lieutenant  felt  that  his 
gun  was  going  to  be  a  satisfactory  defence.  He  was  so  as 
sured  in  regard  to  the  awe  that  it  would  inspire  that  he  had 
not  even  taken  pains  to  protect  the  position  of  the  gunner 
whose  duty  it  was  to  put  the  cartridges  into  the  hopper. 


1865]  The  Smallpox  Camp  427 

It  is  my  impression  that  the  enemy  that  we  had  to  consider 
in  the  swamp  did  not,  at  least  at  this  time,  include  any 
regular  troops.  The  swamp  had  during  the  war  been  the 
refuge  for  deserters,  stray  darkies,  and  predatory  folk,  and 
their  purpose  in  attacking  a  boat  like  ours  would  have  been 
not  the  serving  of  the  Confederacy  but  the  securing  of 
stores.  We  had  one  or  two  sharp  skirmishes  as  we  reached 
the  central  portion  of  the  swamp  and  two  of  our  gunners 
were  hit  by  rifle  balls  from  the  shore.  The  lieutenant  then 
rigged  up  a  defensive  screen  which  gave  the  gunner  some 
measure  of  protection  and  after  that  the  volleys  into  the 
bushes  kept  the  shores  clear,  and  on  the  second  day  we  came 
out  in  safety  into  the  open  waters  of  Albemarle  Sound. 
Our  boat  had  a  speed  of  only  six  or  eight  miles  an  hour 
and  I  think  that  another  two  days  were  required  before  we 
finally  reached  the  pier  at  Morehead  City,  which  lies  at 
the  extreme  south-eastern  corner  of  the  North  Carolina 
coast  on  what  was  called  Core  Sound.  From  there,  the 
group  of  returning  soldiers  made  their  way  by  a  very 
rickety  single-track  railroad  to  Newberne  where  I  found 
a  portion  of  my  regiment  doing  garrison  duty.  The  troops 
in  eastern  North  Carolina  were  at  this  time  under  the 
command  of  General  Terry,  one  of  the  few  civilian  officers 
whose  reputation  increased  steadily  throughout  the  war. 
He  had  shown  a  capacity  equal  to  that  of  the  West 
Pointers  for  independent  command  and  for  handling 
large  bodies  of  troops. 

My  stay  in  Newberne  must  have  lasted  some  weeks. 
The  principal  incident  that  I  recall  was  in  connection  with 
the  breaking  out  of  smallpox  in  a  camp  of  contrabands 
that  had  been  established  a  mile  or  two  from  the  town. 
The  darkies  had,  after  our  occupation  of  the  posts  on  the 
coast,  worked  their  way  eastward,  usually -bringing  wives 
and  pickaninnies,  and  asking  for  work,  army  service,  and 
above  all  for  rations.  In  order  to  retain  better  control 


428  The  Smallpox  Camp  [1865 

of  the  town,  General  Terry  had  decided  to  keep  these 
contrabands  in  a  camp  appointed  for  the  purpose,  and  this 
decision  proved  fortunate.  At  the  time  of  my  arrival, 
the  smallpox  had  just  broken  out  among  the  darkies  and 
the  camp  had  been  promptly  isolated  from  the  town  by  a 
picket  line.  It  was  reported  that  the  camp  was  in  bad 
shape,  that  the  dead  lay  unburied,  and  the  sick  were 
receiving  no  care.  There  was  also  no  certainty  that  the 
provisions  passed  over  the  picket  line  reached  those  who 
needed  them  most  or  that  any  adequate  means  of  equita 
ble  distribution  had  been  provided.  There  were  at  this 
time  in  Newberne  certain  representatives  of  the  Christian 
Commission,  an  association  that  had  been  instituted  early 
in  the  war  to  supplement  the  work  of  the  Sanitary  Com 
mission.  The  Christian  Commission  workers  took  with 
them  to  the  front  Bibles,  religious  reading  matter,  and 
writing  materials.  They  also,  however,  had  medica 
ments  and  surgical  appliances  and  were  always  ready,  and 
were  often  able,  to  render  valuable  co-operation  to  the 
work  of  army  surgeons,  either  in  the  hospitals  or  on  the 
fields.  The  Christian  Commission  work  in  eastern  North 
Carolina  was  at  that  time  under  the  direction  of  Vincent 
Colyer,  an  artist  of  New  York  who  happened  to  be  an  old- 
time  friend  of  my  father's  and  with  whom  I  was  glad  to  get 
a  personal  greeting  on  my  arrival.  Colyer  with  one  of  his 
associates,  whose  name  I  do  not  recall,  told  Terry  that  the 
two  were  willing  to  take  charge  of  the  contraband  camp 
and  to  arrange  for  the  care  of  the  dead  and  sick  and  for 
the  distribution  of  the  food  that  was  being  delivered  at 
the  picket  line.  Terry  pointed  out  that  if  Colyer  and  his 
friend  went  to  the  camp  they  would  have  to  stay  there 
until  the  smallpox  had  been  beaten  out  or  until  the  risk  of 
the  contagion  had  passed.  It  was,  of  course,  essential 
on  every  ground,  not  only  that  the  women  and  children  in 
Newberne  should  be  protected  (the  men  folk  were  for  the 


The  Smallpox  Camp  429 

most  part  serving  in  the  famous  North  Carolina  divisions), 
but  that  there  should  be  no  risk  of  bringing  smallpox  into 
the  thinned  ranks  of  the  Northern  regiments.  Colyer,  of 
course,  understood  the  requirement  and  went  off  with  the 
thanks  and  the  blessing  of  the  General. 

He  remained  in  the  camp  for  a  long  series  of  weeks  until 
the  smallpox  had  been  brought  to  a  close.  The  dead  were 
buried,  the  men  and  women  who  were  strong  enough  were 
made  to  take  care  of  the  sick  and  to  clean  up  the  camp, 
the  provisions  (which,  as  usual  in  such  a  contingency, 
had  been  largely  appropriated  by  the  strongest)  were 
fairly  distributed,  the  infected  clothing  and  blankets  were 
burned,  and  clean  garments  were,  as  fast  as  practicable, 
distributed  to  those  who  needed  them.  I  was  told  by  our 
post  surgeon  that  it  was  only  through  this  noble  service  of 
Colyer  and  his  associates  that  Newberne  was  saved  from 
the  incursion  of  the  pest.  I  need  hardly  point  out  that  an 
act  of  this  character  calls  for  a  much  rarer  kind  of  courage 
than  that  required  for  the  storming  of  a  battery  or  for 
any  simple  military  operation.  It  is  my  impression  that 
Colyer  never  received  any  formal  recognition  for  this 
great  service.  He  ought  certainly  to  have  been  decor 
ated  with  the  United  States  Medal  of  Honour. 

After  two  or  three  weeks  at  Newberne,  our  garrison 
was  moved  up  to  Goldsboro,  a  distance  of  about  150 
miles  westward,  and  we  were  stationed  at  a  little  village 
called  Greenleaf,  a  few  miles  to  the  north  of  Goldsboro. 
Sherman  had  sent  word  to  Terry,  whom  Grant  had  placed 
under  his  orders,  to  vacate  the  posts  on  the  coast  and  to 
concentrate  all  the  men  who  were  available  on  a  line  run 
ning  east  and  west  from  Goldsboro.  Sherman  was  pressing 
northward,  pushing  before  him  on  his  advance  the  forces 
of  his  old  opponent,  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston.  Re 
duced  as  Johnston's  force  was,  it  still  had  fighting  capacity 
left,  as  was  shown  by  the  fierce  little  battle  fought  on  the 


430  The  Battle  of  Bentonville  [1865 

1 9th  of  March  at  Bentonville,  a  few  miles  to  the  south-west 
of  Goldsboro.  Sherman  was  anxious  to  prevent  any  pos 
sible  junction  between  Johnston  and  Lee,  who  would,  it 
was  expected,  be  retreating  from  Virginia  southward. 

Terry's  troops  were  ordered  to  make  such  line  as  might 
be  practicable  between  Johnston  and  Lee,  which  might 
serve  at  least  to  delay  Johnston's  march  northward. 
Sherman  kept,  however,  so  close  a  push  upon  his  antagon 
ist  that  Terry's  line  was  not  called  upon  for  action.  This 
was  probably  fortunate,  as  the  line  was  very  thin  indeed 
and  could  hardly  have  withstood  an  attack  from  the 
tough  veterans  who  had  turned  Sherman's  left  at  Benton 
ville. 

It  was  at  Greenleaf  near  Goldsboro  that  we  received  the 
news  of  the  battle  of  Five  Forks,  the  capture  of  Richmond, 
and  the  surrender  at  Appomattox. 

From  Greenleaf,  we  were  moved  to  Durham,  where  a 
few  days  later  the  war  was  brought  to  a  close  by  the  sur 
render  to  Sherman  of  the  army  led  by  Johnston. 

The  news  of  the  death  of  Lincoln  came  to  my  division 
at  Greenleaf,  I  think  on  the  i6th  of  April,  although  it  may 
have  been  a  day  later.  Greenleaf  had  at  that  time  no 
wire  communication  from  the  north.  I  know  that  a 
courier  came  to  us  across  the  swamp  and  through  the 
woodland  at  noon  each  day  with  despatches  from  some 
point  nearer  the  coast.  On  this  morning  I  had  reported 
myself  for  a  shave  to  an  old  darky  whom  I  had  visited 
once  or  twice  before.  He  took  up  his  razor,  dropped  it, 
took  it  up  again,  and  again  dropped  it.  I  saw  his  hand  was 
shaking  and  judged  with  him  that  he  was  in  no  condition 
for  the  task. 

"I  can't  shave  you   this  mornin*,  Massa,"  he  said. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  Uncle  Ben?" 

"Why,  sir,  somethin's  happened  to  Massa  Lincoln,  and 
I  can't  do  nothin',  sir,  but  jes'  think  about  it. " 


1865]          The  News  of  Lincoln's  Death          431 

"Why, "  I  said,  "what  has  happened  to  Lincoln?  You 
have  no  news  that  I  haven't  got!" 

"We  coloured  folk,"  he  said,  "sometimes  get  news  or 
half  news  'fore  it  comes  to  you  white  people,  and  we  col 
oured  folk  here  all  feel  this  mornin'  that  somethin's  gone 
wrong  with  Massa  Lincoln." 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  gotten  from  the  old  man 
and  I  made  my  way  unshaved  to  the  division  headquarters, 
feeling  anxious  in  spite  of  my  understanding  that  the 
darky  could  have  had  no  real  news.  The  coloured  folk 
were  clustered  about  the  streets  of  the  little  village 
muttering,  and  some  of  them  in  tears,  but  no  one  of  them 
was  able  to  give  authority  for  the  rumour.  I  found  the 
division  adjutant  and  the  officers  with  him  troubled  like 
myself  at  the  report  from  the  darkies,  but  still  unwilling  to 
believe  that  any  trustworthy  word  could  have  come  to  them 
in  advance  of  the  despatches  for  which  we  were  waiting. 

At  noon  the  courier  made  his  appearance,  riding  out 
from  the  woods  on  the  north-east,  and  we  felt  at  once  from 
the  appearance  of  the  man  that  he  had  bad  news.  He  was 
hurrying  his  horse  as  he  was  bound  to  do,  and  yet  he 
seemed  afraid  to  arrive.  In  this  instance,  as  was  of  course 
not  usually  the  case,  the  courier  knew  what  was  in  his 
despatches.  He  handed  his  bag  of  documents  with  one 
separate  envelope,  to  the  division  adjutant  who  stood  on 
the  step,  and  the  adjutant,  tearing  open  the  envelope, 
began  to  speak  and  then  his  voice  broke  down.  He 
was  able  finally  to  get  out  the  words:  "Lincoln  is  dead." 
No  more  was  necessary,  and  no  further  word  was,  in  fact, 
possible.  I  never  before  or  since  have  been  with  a  large 
mass  of  men  overwhelmed  by  one  simple  emotion.  The 
whole  division  was  sobbing  together.  The  feeling  with 
all  was  the  loss  not  only  of  the  great  Captain  but  of  the 
personal  friend,  of  him  who  was  for  the  troops,  as  for  the 
whole  country,  Father  Abraham. 


432  The  End  of  the  War  [1865 

After  the  completion  of  the  surrender  at  Durham,  the 
army  of  General  Sherman  was  forwarded  to  Washington 
to  do  its  part  on  the  second  day  of  the  great  parade  or 
march  pass.  It  was  a  keen  disappointment  to  the  men 
of  my  division  to  learn  that  we  were  not  among  the  men 
ordered  North.  We  had  assumed  that  the  war  being  over, 
we  were  to  be  promptly  distributed  to  our  homes.  Our 
martial  ardour  during  the  last  three  preceding  years  had 
been  pretty  thoroughly  expended,  and  we  had  no  desire 
for  any  more  soldiering.  It  was  necessary,  however,  to  do 
something  to  keep  order  throughout  the  territory  of  the 
Southern  States  until  the  people  could  take  steps  to  restore 
their  local  governments.  The  disbanded  Confederate 
troops  were  a  sturdy  and  on  the  whole  a  trustworthy  lot  of 
veterans.  Their  only  desire  was  to  go  to  their  homes  as 
far  as  they  still  had  homes,  and  to  take  up  the  difficult  task 
of  securing  a  living.  But  apart  from  the  trustworthy 
veterans,  there  were  scattered  about  the  country  many 
stragglers  and  deserters  and  stray  darkies.  It  was  not 
unnatural  that  the  negroes,  excited  by  the  defeat  of  their 
old  masters,  by  the  certainty  of  freedom  and  by  vague 
dreams  of  citizenship  and  of  the  wealth  that  the  poor 
things  hoped  was  to  come  with  citizenship,  should,  to  some 
extent  at  least,  lose  their  heads  and  become  troublesome 
and  occasionally  obstreperous.  ,  In  some  way  or  other, 
the  word  had  gone  through  the  coloured  communities 
that  each  negro  head  of  a  family  was  to  be  provided  by  the 
National  Government  with  "forty  acres  and  a  mule."  I 
do  not  know  how  the  legend  originated,  but  a  great  deal  of 
discontent  and  mischief  were  brought  about  before  the 
negroes  came  to  understand  that  freedom  meant  not  less 
work  but  a  larger  responsibility  for  work,  and  that  it  was 
only  through  labour  that  food  for  themselves  and  their 
children  could  be  secured. 

Virginia  and  North  Carolina  were  divided  into  districts 


Maintaining  Order  in  the  South        433 

for  each  of  which  an  officer  of  rank,  a  colonel  or  brigade 
commander,  was  left  in  charge  with  one  or  two  battalions 
of  troops  to  act  as  constables.  Announcements  were 
distributed  on  the  part  of  the  Federal  authorities,  calling 
upon  the  people  of  these  States  to  take  action  as  promptly 
as  practicable  in  regard  to  the  re-constitution  of  their 
State,  county,  and  town  governments.  A  similar  course 
was  taken  in  Georgia  and  throughout  the  South.  The 
action  of  the  Southerners  varied  in  the  different  com 
munities.  In  Virginia  they  came  together  with  fair 
promptness  and  secured  such  arrangements  for  local 
control  that  the  Northern  troops  were  able  to  be  spared 
in  a  few  weeks'  time.  In  Georgia  there  was  delay,  due 
partly  to  the  fact  that  the  natural  leaders  of  the  com 
munity  got  back  but  slowly  to  their  homes  from  the  places 
where  their  final  campaigns  had  been  completed,  and  in 
part  to  what  was  described  as  a  certain  sullenness  on  the 
part  of  the  older  citizens  who  being  at  home  were  more 
immediately  responsible.  My  division  was  ordered  from 
North  Carolina  to  take  charge  of  the  eastern  districts  in 
Georgia  and  we  were  shipped  from  Morehead  City  to 
Savannah.  The  responsibility  for  keeping  order  in 
Savannah,  and  in  a  quite  extensive  adjacent  district,  was 
left,  if  I  remember  rightly,  to  two  or  three  regiments  of 
which  the  1 76th  New  York  was  one.  We  had  at  that  time 
but  1 80  muskets  fit  for  duty  and  the  other  battalions  were 
probably  no  stronger.  I  know  that  there  were  by  no 
means  men  enough  to  go  around.  The  patrol  duty  in  the 
town  itself  was  fatiguing  and  it  was  difficult  to  secure 
any  sufficiency  of  horses  or  mules  to  do  effective  patrolling 
in  the  outskirts.  From  week  to  week  came  tramping  back 
into  Savannah  the  returning  Confederates;  some  of  them 
were  looking  for  plantation  homes  which  had  disappeared 
under  the  ravages  of  successive  campaigns.  Some  actu 
ally  had  no  knowledge  of  the  whereabouts  of  wives  and 
28 


434         Confederate  Officers  as  Patrols         [1865 

daughters.  Not  a  few  were  wounded,  while  all  were 
fatigued  and  emaciated  with  long  marches  and  insufficient 
food.  They  were  all  penniless  and  discouraged  as  to  the 
opportunities  of  the  future.  From  time  to  time,  these 
Confederate  officers,  with  homes  in  the  outskirts  or  farther 
off  even  in  the  country  districts,  would  come  to  the  adju 
tant's  office  to  make  application  for  guards  for  protection. 
The  word  was  always  practically  the  same:  "You  under 
stand,  Adjutant,  that  there  are  women  and  children  on  the 
place  with  no  men  to  protect  them.  The  swamps  are  full 
of  stragglers  white  and  black.  We  must  have  help. ' '  We 
could  only  explain  that  we  had  no  force  available  to  cover 
the  country  districts  and  there  were,  in  fact,  days  when, 
for  want  of  men  or  from  the  necessity  of  resting  the  men, 
the  patrols  in  the  city  had  to  be  intermitted  or  carried  on 
with  skeleton  guards.  Then  came  the  suggestion  that 
these  officers  would  themselves  fall  in  and  help  to  make 
at  least  during  the  hours  of  the  night  an  efficient  patrol 
about  the  city. 

I  remember  one  incident  (which  probably  was  but  one 
of  many  similar  occurrences)  which  was  rather  character 
istic  of  the  conditions  and  relations  that  obtained.  We 
were,  of  course,  perfectly  friendly  to  the  returning  Con 
federates,  and  there  was  on  their  part  no  expression  of 
bitterness  or  even  of  antagonism.  It  was  impossible, 
in  fact,  not  to  be  sympathetic  with  men  who  had  done  such 
magnificent  fighting  and  who  had  maintained,  through 
years  of  difficulties,  discouragements,  and  privations, 
their  patience,  their  hope,  and  their  courage;  and  who  were 
now  through  the  fortunes  of  war  left  penniless  with  the 
task  of  reconstituting  homes  in  territory  that  had  been 
in  great  part  devastated  by  war. 

The  sergeant  of  the  guard  reporting  to  the  adjutant  in 
the  morning,  is  asked  in  ordinary  routine:  "Did  any 
thing  happen  last  night  that  calls  for  record?"  "Well, 


1865]  Confederate  Gentleman's  Gun  Goes  Off  435 

sir,"  with  a  little  hesitation,  "one  of  them  Confeder 
ate  gentlemen's  guns  went  off  about  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning  and  a  negro  got  killed. "  Our  own  men  in  the 
ranks  were  quite  ready  to  give  respect  to  the  age,  to  the 
social  class,  and  to  the  official  station  of  the  Confederate 
"gentlemen"  who  were  then  serving  in  the  ranks  as 
volunteers.  "That  is  a  serious  matter,  Sergeant.  Did 
you  give  any  orders  about  the  shooting?"  "No,  sir,  and 
the  major  he  owned  right  up  that  it  was  all  wrong,  and 
said  that  I  should  have  to  report  him."  The  sergeant  is 
dismissed  and  the  Confederate  gentleman,  a  major  old 
enough  to  have  been  my  father,  and  his  associate,  a  captain 
of  the  same  generation,  march  in.  Their  clothes  are  worn, 
their  faces  haggard,  although,  of  course,  in  getting  back  to 
Savannah,  they  were  again,  if  not  in  their  own  homes, 
through  the  post  rations,  within  reach  of  food,  but  they  were 
in  every  way  soldierlike  and  they  were  undoubted  gentle 
men.  They  stood  there  with  their  muskets  at  attention, 
as  was  proper  for  soldiers  of  the  guard  until  they  were 
ordered  to  rest  arms,  and  then  the  major  replied  to  the 
question.  "How  is  this  about  shooting  without  orders?" 
"It's  all  wrong,  Adjutant,  we  quite  understood  that  we 
were  to  obey  orders.  We  are  old  soldiers,  sir,  and  we 
know  what  orders  are.  You  must,  of  course,  preserve 
discipline.  We  ought  both  to  be  in  the  guard-house. 
But,  Adjutant,  the  damned  nigger  had  no  business  to 
be  out  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. " 

It  is  quite  probable  that  in  this  conclusion  the  major 
was  right.  The  "niggers"  who  were  about  town  in  the 
late  hours  of  the  night  were  usually  after  mischief,  but  I 
never  had  any  chance  of  verifying  the  responsibility  for 
the  particular  darky  whose  life  came  to  a  close  that  night,, 

"You  will  understand,  Major,"  I  said,  "that  this  is  a 
serious  matter  and  that  I  shall  be  obliged  to  report  it  to 
the  commander  of  the  post.  Don't  forget  that  the  war  is 


436  Confederate  Gentleman's  Gun  Goes  Off  [1865 

over  and  that  while  we  still  have  martial  law,  there  can  be 
no  shooting  excepting  under  proper  authority." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  sir, "  said  the  major  as  he  touched 
his  hat  and  withdrew.  When  I  reported  the  case  to  the 
commander  of  the  post,  who  knew  both  the  old  officers, 
his  inquiry  was:  "Adjutant,  has  that  shooting  been 
entered  in  the  guard  book  ?  "  ' '  The  entry  has  been  delayed, 
sir,  until  it  could  be  made  complete  by  the  addition  of 
such  instruction  or  order  as  you  might  have  given." 
"Adjutant,  I  am  not  prepared  to  give  you  any  orders  in 
regard  to  this  matter.  I  may  suggest,  speaking,  of 
course,  quite  unofficially,  that  there  might  be  some 
convenience  if,  through  an  oversight  on  the  part  of  your 
clerk,  the  minutes  for  the  night  should  contain  no  refer 
ence  to  the  shooting."  The  clerk  was  careless  and  no 
such  record  found  place.  I  may  only  hope  that  the  two 
old  officers  (whor  unless  under  stress  of  special  apprehen 
sion,  were  most  obedient  privates  of  the  guard)  succeeded 
in  reconstituting  something  in  the  shape  of  homes  and 
incomes. 

The  weeks  passed  slowly  in  Savannah.  We  might  well 
have  welcomed  the  relief  from  the  fatigues  of  campaigning 
and  from  the  apprehensions  of  war.  The  existence  of  the 
nation  was  maintained  and  we  youngsters  had  done  our 
part  as  well  as  we  knew  how  in  the  great  contest.  While 
so  many  of  our  comrades  had  passed  away,  we  were  spared 
to  take  up  again  the  plans  for  our  careers  as  citizens.  We 
could  not  foresee  all  the  difficulties,  troubles,  and  mortifi 
cations  that  were  to  come  upon  the  people  in  the  task  of 
re-construction,  a  task  that  would  have  been  so  much 
furthered  and  in  which  so  many  serious  troubles  would 
have  been  avoided  if  the  leadership  in  the  direction  of 
national  affairs  could  have  remained  in  the  hands  of 
the  patient,  farseeing,  and  sympathetic  Lincoln.  Savan 
nah  was  not  an  uncomfortable  sojourning  place.  I 


1865]  Sojourn  in  Savannah  437 

have  memory  of  a  beautiful  little  city,  well  shaded,  with 
homes  placed  in  green  squares  of  gardens.  The  immediate 
city  had  escaped  any  destruction  through  actual  righting 
and  the  houses  rested,  therefore,  in  their  original  quiet 
dignity  and  beauty  as  they  had  first  been  built.  As 
before  indicated,  the  veteran  officers,  the  natural  leaders 
of  Savannah  society  who  were  returning,  were  quite  ready 
to  accept  good  fellowship  with  the  representatives  from  the 
North ;  the  older  men  who  had  been  left  behind  as  citizens, 
and  the  women,  found  it,  however,  much  more  difficult 
to  be  not  to  say  sympathetic  but  even  courteous.  For 
them  it  was  not  yet  possible  to  get  away  from  the  bitter 
ness  of  the  struggle  and  the  keen  disappointment  of  the 
defeat.  As  a  result,  there  were  very  few  houses  in  the 
town  in  which  the  Federal  officers  were  accepted  as  visitors, 
although  now  and  then,  in  connection  with  some  service 
to  be  rendered  in  furnishing  medical  or  surgical  assistance 
or  needed  supplies,  our  presence  was  welcomed. 

We  found  the  management  of  our  officers'  mess  unduly 
expensive ;  at  least  in  so  far  as  we  attempted  to  add  to  our 
menu  any  luxuries  not  included  in  the  army  commissary 
stores.  The  old  women  who  had  chickens  to  sell  seemed 
to  assume  that  they  had  now  an  opportunity  to  make 
good  all  the  losses  of  the  war  and  the  prices  charged  were 
simply  awful.  We  did  receive  at  headquarters  from  some 
of  the  citizens  or  returned  officers,  in  consideration  of 
services  rendered,  a  few  bottles  of  old  Madeira  which 
had  escaped  the  requirements  of  the  Confederate  com 
missaries  and  had  remained  stored  in  the  cellars  for  a  long 
term  of  years.  I  had  myself  no  knowledge  of  wine  but 
was  told  that  this  Savannah  Madeira  belonged  to  the  very 
best  of  its  class. 

We  had  some  difficulty  in  keeping  the  men  of  our  regi 
ments  in  good  discipline.  It  is  the  usual  routine,  when  a 
command  is  on  post  and  not  immediately  in  the  face  of 


438  Sojourn  in  Savannah  [1865 

the  enemy,  to  make  employment  for  the  men  either  with 
camp  work  under  the  directions  of  the  quartermasters 
and  engineers  or  in  drilling.  There  was,  however,  very 
little  requirement  for  camp  construction,  and  it  was 
difficult  to  persuade  either  officers  or  men  that  duty  to  the 
country  required  hours  to  be  devoted  to  drilling  when 
the  temperature  was  well  up  over  the  nineties.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  was  a  certainty  that  idle  hours  would 
produce  mischief  of  one  kind  or  another;  the  card 
playing  and  the  accompanying  drinking  brought  quar 
rels,  and,  trained  veterans  as  the  men  were,  there 
came  to  be  some  demoralisation.  Later  in  the  sum 
mer,  however,  when  the  citizens  and  the  returning  vet 
erans  were  able  to  take  care  of  the  peace  of  the  city 
with  home  guards,  our  battalions  were  scattered  out 
into  the  country  districts  and  led  a  more  wholesome 
life. 

One  of  the  interests  in  life  in  the  district  posts  was 
searching  for  concealed  cotton.  Information  would  be 
brought  from  time  to  time  by  the  negroes  that  they  could 
steer  us  to  places  in  the  swamps  or  in  the  woods  where 
bales  of  cotton  had  been  hidden,  and  in  the  majority  of 
cases  the  darkies  had  themselves  done  under  supervision 
the  work  of  storing  the  cotton.  They  would  report,  with 
more  or  less  truth,  that  the  owners  had  not  been  heard  of 
for  years  and  were  doubtless  dead.  Cotton  so  found,  for 
which  no  local  owners  made  claim,  belonged  probably  to 
the  National  Government.  There  might  perhaps  have 
been  some  claim  on  the  part  of  the  State  authorities.  It 
was  certain  that  no  rightful  ownership  could  be  secured 
by  individual  Federals  simply  on  the  ground  of  discovery 
and  of  a  little  expenditure  in  getting  the  bales  down  to  the 
Savannah  wharves.  It  is  my  memory,  however,  that 
some  thousands  of  dollars  were  made  in  the  course  of 
July  and  August  by  Federal  officers  who  were  able,  in 


My  War  Service  Closes  439 

dividing  proceeds  with  the  quartermasters,  to  secure  trans 
portation  and  to  make  shipment  to  New  York  of  this 
"treasure  trove "  of  cotton.  It  was  these  bales  for  which 
the  English  investors  in  Confederate  cotton  bonds  were 
waiting  to  make  good  their  investments  of  1862-63,  and 
they  waited  in  vain. 

In  July,  I  learned  with  very  great  satisfaction  that  my 
resignation,  which  had  been  sent  in  promptly  after  the 
surrender  at  Goldsboro,  had  finally  been  accepted.  I  left 
my  regiment  still  doing  guard  duty  and  cotton  prospect 
ing  in  the  district  west  of  Savannah,  and  securing 
from  the  quartermaster  at  Savannah  the  necessary 
transportation  facilities,  made  my  way  by  steamer  to 
New  York. 

I  recalled  in  landing  at  Whitehall  that  just  three  years 
had  passed  since  my  return  as  a  small  student  from 
Germany.  These  years  which  had  covered  for  the  coun 
try  a  period  of  such  fearful  stress  and  a  development 
through  fire  and  sword,  had  of  course,  meant  also  for 
myself  a  development  beyond  what  would  usually  be 
secured  between  the  ages  of  eighteen  and  twenty-one.  I 
had  lost,  and  was  never  to  be  in  a  position  to  regain,  the 
opportunity  for  a  college  training.  With  a  keen  interest 
in  literary  and  scholarly  matters,  I  was  obliged  to  do  my 
later  reading  without  the  all-important  foundation  of  the 
routine  knowledge  of  Latin,  of  literary  history,  of  the 
principles  of  science,  etc.,  which  any  youngster  who  has 
made  a  fair  use  of  college  facilities  has  secured.  I  had  in 
like  manner  lost  opportunities  that  had  been  utilised  by 
others  for  an  early  start  in  business  at  a  time  when, 
notwithstanding  the  great  interference  with  the  ordinary 
industrial  operations  of  the  country,  business  did  present 
great  chances  for  money-making  in  one  channel  or  another. 
I  had  also  to  debit  against  my  war  experience  some  ma 
terial  impairment  in  health.  It  was  my  own  experience  and 


44°  My  Return  to  New  York  [1865 

I  think  that  of  my  fellows,  that  the  ordinary  experience  of 
campaigning  is  more  likely  to  help  than  to  hurt  the  physical 
condition  of  a  man  or  a  boy  who  starts  right — that  is  to  say, 
who  has  ordinary  strength  and  physique,  and  who  main 
tains  habits  of  temperance.  My  own  campaigning  had 
however,  been  unfortunate  in  two  respects.  I  had  for  two 
years  been  exposed  to  the  heat  and  the  damp  of  the  swamps 
of  Louisiana,  swamps  in  which  nearly  one-third  of  the 
Nineteenth  Army  Corps  lay  buried.  I  had  barely  recuper 
ated  from  the  series  of  swamp  fevers  brought  from  Louisi 
ana  before  I  was  called  upon  to  encounter  nearly  five 
months  of  prison  life,  an  experience  which,  as  far  at  least  as 
the  prisons  of  Virginia  were  concerned,  was  undoubtedly 
more  severe  during  the  last  winter  of  the  war  than  at  any 
previous  time.  I  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  that, 
notwithstanding  the  enfeebling  influence  of  the  Louisiana 
fevers,  I  had  been  able  to  stand  the  prison  privations 
better  than  the  larger  number  of  my  associates  and  pro 
bably  as  well  as  any.  As  previously  stated,  the  deaths 
in  Libby  and  in  Danville  prisons  during  the  winter  of 
1864-5  were  very  heavy,  but  I  do  not  dare  trust  my  mem 
ory  as  to  the  exact  number  or  percentage.  The  deaths  in 
prison  constituted,  however,  "only  a  portion  and  probably 
the  smaller  portion  of  the  physical  results  of  prison  life. 
It  was  the  case  that  very  few  of  the  men  who  came  down 
the  river  from  Richmond  in  March,  1865,  were  strong 
enough  for  further  army  service  or  would  have  been  strong 
enough  even  if  they  had  had  many  months'  rest  with 
proper  nutrition.  Thousands  of  prisoners  went  back  to 
their  homes  permanently  enfeebled,  and  many  found 
death  within  a  few  months  or  a  year  or  two  after  the  close 
of  the  war.  I  had,  as  reported,  been  able  to  do  duty  with 
my  regiment  within  three  weeks'  time  of  my  release,  and 
while  the  summer  months  in  Georgia  had  been  rather 
enervating,  I  found  myself  on  landing  in  New  York  in 


I  Become  a  Citizen  441 

fairly  good  condition.  I  remember  my  satisfaction  in 
being  able,  in  October,  1865,  to  register  my  name  for 
my  first  legal  vote.  I  felt  that  I  had  fairly  earned  my 
citizenship. 


INDEX 


Adams,  Charles  Francis,  212  ff. 
Adjutants,  Work  of,  throughout  the 

Army,  293  f. 

Alabama,  Escape  of  the,  214 
Albemarle,  The  Ram,  421 
Albert,  Prince,  34  ff.,  203  ff.,  213  ff. 
Alexandria,  301  ff.,  316 
Algiers,  257 

Alice  Counce,  At  Sea,  in  the,  242  ff. 
Alloury,  Louis,  105 
Agnew,  Dr.,  C.  R.,  88  ff. 
America,  The  Yacht,  39  f. 
Andersonville,  395 
Annapolis,  424 
Anthon,  Dr.  Charles,  72  f. 
Anthony,  Major,  266 
Argyle,  The  Duke  of,  212 
Atlantic  Cable,  The,  64  ff. 

Badger,  Capt.,  W.  W.,  350  ff. 

Bailey,  Capt.,  249 

Bailey,  Colonel  Joseph,  The  Dams 

of,  310  ff. 

Banks,  Gen.  N.  P.,  241  ff.,  249,  260 
Bartling,  Dr.,  160  f. 
Baseball,  under  Difficulties,  305  f. 
Bayou  Bceuf,  259 
Beale,  General,  412 
Beauregard,  Gen.  P.  T.,  221 
Beilstein,  Dr.,  176 
Belle-Isle  Prison,  388 
Berlin  in  1860,  119  ff. 
Beveridge,  Sergt.,  259 
Bigelow,  John,  212  ff. 
Birge,  General,  277 
Bishop,  John,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  24 
Bisland,  The  Fight  at,  262 
Bloomerism,  40 
Bohemia,  Tramp  through,  in  1861, 

144  f. 

Bonnet  Carre",  279  ff. 
Brasbear  City,  259,  268  ff. 


Bremer,  Fredrika,  26 
Bright,  John,  212  ff. 
Bristol,  Sojourn  in,  96  f. 
Brocken,  The,  A  Visit  to,  196  f. 
Brooklyn,  The,  at  the  Passage  of  the 

Forts,  249 
Bryant,  Wm.  Cullen,  61,  80 


Calvinism  and  Preaching,  255 

Carlsbad  in  1861,  149 

Casey's  Tactics,  245  f. 

Cass,  Lewis,  4 

Castle  Thunder  Prison,  413  f. 

Catholic  Preaching  in  Paris,  108  ff. 

Cedar  Creek,  The  Battle  of,  349, 

362  ff. 

Central  Park,  Beginnings  of,  87 
Chaplain,  Dismissal  of  the,  255 
Chaplain's  work  Taken  by  the 

Adjutant,  255 
Charleston  in  1864,  335 
Chartists,  The,  9  ff. 
Chicago  Mercantile  Battery,  The, 


308 
hh 


Chlum,  The  Fog-Enveloped  Village 

of,  149 

Christian  Commission,  The,  428 
Circourt,  Comte  de,  no  f. 
City  Point  in  1865,  423 
Civil  War,  Outbreak  of  the,  200  ff. 
Cleveland,  Cyrus,  52  ff. 
Cobden,  Richard,  212  ff. 
Coburg,  151 
Cologne    Cathedral,   Visit    to  the, 

n8f. 
Columbia  Grammar  School,  Work 

in,  73  ff. 

Colyer,  Vincent,  428 
Communists,  The,  and  the  Louvre, 

103  ff. 
Confederate  Cotton  Bonds,  128  ff. 


443 


444 


Index 


Confederate  Cotton-Loan,  English 
Subscribers  to  the,  213  f. 

Confederate  Officers  Do  Patrol 
Duty,  436 

Cook,  Capt.  Wm.,  389 

Cooper  Union  Speech,  The,  of  Lin 
coln,  8 1  ff. 

Cotton  Operatives  in  Manchester, 
Oldham,  etc.,  218 

Crook,  General,  363,  366 

Curtis,  G.  W.f  43,  54 

Danville  Prison,  395  ff. 
Danville  R.  R.,  392 
Davis,  Jefferson,  343,  392  f. 
Dayton,  Minister  in  Paris,  215 
Delane,  John,  212  ff. 
De  Russy,  Fort,  Capture  of,  301 
Dewey,  Dr.  Orville,  74 
Dismal  Swamp,  The,  426 
Donelson,  Fort,  249 
Dresden  in  1861,  139  f. 
Drouyn  de  Lhuys,  216  f. 
Duels  in  Gottingen,  1861,  178 
Duganne,  A.  J.  H.,  232 
Duffie,  General,  402 
Dupont,  Admiral,  336 

Early,  General  Jubal  A.,  343,  360, 

370,  377  ff. 
Eger,  150 
Eisenach,  155 
Emory,  General,  262,  338 
England,  in  1844-48,  6;  in  1851,  29 

ff.;  in  1860,  95  f. 
Erlangers,  the  Bankers,  221  ff. 
Ewald,  Professor,  173  f. 
Exhibition  in  London,  The,  of  1851, 

31  ff. 
Exhibition  in  New  York,  1855,  62 

Farragut,  Admiral,  241  ff. 
Fessenden,  General,  334 
Field,  Cyrus,  W.,  64  ff. 
Fire-Engines  Captured  by  the  N.  Y. 

Regiments,  252 
Fish,  Nicholas,  71 
Five  Mile  River  Landing,  227  ff. 
Folsom,  George  W.,  71 
Forbes,  John  M.,  219 
Forgery  by  the  Adjutant,  291 
Forster,  W.  E.,  212 
Fort  Moultrie,  in  1864,  336 
Fort  Stevens,  341 
Fort  Sumter,  in  1864,  336 
Fort  Wagner,  336 
Franklin,  Gen.  W.  B.,  310 


Franklin,  The  Steamer,  28  ff. 
Fremont,  John  C.,  55  f. 

Gaeta,  Fall  of,  105 
Gardiner,  General,  260 
Gettysburg,  the  Battle  of,  News  of, 

275 

Ghent,  The  Treaty  of,  208 
Gillette,  D.  G.,  263 
Gladstone,  W.  E.,  212  ff. 
Gilmore,  Gen.  Q.  A.,  336 
Godwin,  Parke,  44-55 
Goldsboro,  429 
Gordon,  General,  370 
Gottingen,  Sojourn  in,  160  ff. 
Graefe,  Baron  von,  119  f. 
Grant,  General,  302,  361 
Green,  General,  306 
Greenleaf,  N.  C.,  429 
Griffith,  Mattie,  345 
Grinnell,  Henry,  219 
Grover,  General  Cuvier,  301,  306 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  Loafing  in  the,  245  ff . 
Gulliver,  John,  4 

Halleck,  General,  299 

Hansa,   The  Steamer,  Return  by, 

221 

Hansen,  Dr.,  157 
Hardie,  General,  246  f. 
Hargreaves,  Richard,  213 
Hart,  James  Morgan,  166  ff. 
Hartford,  The,  at  the  Passage  of  the 

Forts,  249 

Hartz,  A  Trip  through  the,  195  ff. 
Hatteras,  In  Storms  off,  244 
Hawks,  Dr.  Francis  L.,  42  ff. 
Hayes,  General  Joseph,  402  f. 
Hayes,  General  R.  B.,  346 
Heintzelman,  General,  192 
Helper's  Impending  Crisis,  86 
Hinckley,  Henry  R.,  116  ff. 
Hooper,  Lt.-Col.,  412 
Hospital,  The,  in  New  Orleans,  336  f . 
Hudson,  Secretary  of  Legation,  125 

ff. 
Huntington,  Henry,  112 

Iberville,  Destruction  of  the  Steamer, 

281 
Intervention    Defeated    in   British 

Cabinet,  214 

Irving,  Alexander  D.,  238 
Irving,  Washington,  58  ff. 

Jackson,  Ellen,  90 
Jackson,  Fort,  249 


Index 


445 


Jamaica,  L.  L,  In  Camp  at,  234  ff. 
James  Island  in  1864,  335 
Japan  and  Commodore  Perry,  61 
Jecker,   Claim  of,  against  Mexico, 
216 

Johnston,  Gen.  Jos.  E.,  211,  429  f. 
owett,  Benjamin,  213 
uarez,  Possible  Letters  of  Marque 

from,  217 
Judd,  Minister  in  Berlin,  134  f. 

Kerr,  Major  and  Mrs.,  264,  274 
Kershaw,  General,  370 
King,  John,  80 
Kowalski,  Karl  von,  169  f., 
Kreissmann,  Secretary  of  Legation 
in  Berlin,  135  f. 

Lafourche  Bayou,  256  f. 

Lairds,  The,  Shipbuilding  company, 

214  f. 

Layard's  Nineveh  and  Babylon,  62 
Lee,  R.  E.,  General,  at  Gettysburg, 

275 

Lexington,  The  Little,  Leads  the 
Way,  313 

Libby  Prison,  389  ff.^ 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  First  Glimpse  of, 
79  ff.;  at  Fort  Stevens,  341 ;  Elec 
tion  of,  in  Libby,  394;  The  News 
of  the  Death  of,  430  f. 

Lincoln,  Seward,  and  the  Trent 
Affair,  207  ff. 

Lincoln,  Robert,  84,  219,  396 

Lindermann,  Dr.,  School  of,  119  f. 

Lister,  Antiseptic  System  of,  272 

London  in  1844-48,  6  ff.;  in  1851, 
28  ff.;  in  1860,  98  f. 

Lowell,  Mrs.  C.  R.,  345,  378 

Loyal  Publication  Society,  The,  129 

Louis  XVIL,  45  ff. 

Louisa  Hatch,  Voyage  in  the,  93  ff. 

Louisiana,  The  Invasion  of,  241  ff. 

Lovell,  General,  250 

Macauley,  Col.  Dan.,  369  ff. 
Macmullen,  John,  70  ff. 
Madisonville,  294  ff. 
Mails  that  had    been    "Comman 
deered,"  316  f. 
Manchester,  food  for,  219 
Mann,  Judge,  of  Georgia,  207  ff. 
Mann,  Judge  (the  second),  209  f. 
Mansura,  The  Fight  at,  321,  323  ff. 
Martial  Law  in  New  York,  222  ff. 
Martinsburg  in  1864,  350  f. 


Mason,  John  M.,  211  f. 

Mason,  Lowell,  68 

Massanutton  Mountain,  357,  365  f. 

Maynard,  Geo.  W.,  168  f. 

McCarthy,  Justin,  on  the  Chartists, 

9f. 

McClellan,  George  B.,  191  f. 
McClintock,  Dr.,  1 14  f. 
McKinley,  Major  Wm.,  346 
Melrose,  Home  at,  69  ff. 
Mercer,  A.  D.,  24 
Mississippi,  The,  247  ff. 
Mobile,  Advance  towards,  294  ff. 
Morehead  City,  427 
Morrisania,  Home  in,  69  ff. 
Morgan  City,  259 
Morgans,  Morgan,  232  f.,  271  ff. 
Morny,  Due  de,  215  ff. 
Mortar-Schooners,    The,    and    the 

Reduction  of  the  Forts,  249 
Mosby,  Colonel,  350  f. 

Napoleon,  Louis,  205  ff.,  213  ff., 

339,  343 

Navy,  The,  in  the  Red  River,  300  ff. 
Newberne,  427 
Newbury  Family,  The,  23  f. 
New  Orleans,  Occupation  of,  241  ff., 

249 

Newton,  Dr.,  13  f. 
New  York  City,  Riots  in,  in  1863, 

286 ;  Supports  the  Administration, 

231  ff. 

Nott,  Charles  C.,  84,  232  f. 
Nott,  Kingman  N.,  76  ff. 

Olivier,  Juste,  100 
Olmsted,  Fredk.  Law,  84  ff. 
Ould,  Commissioner,  395 

Palmer,  Joseph,  2 
Palmer,  Joseph  Pearse,  2 
Palmerston,  Lord,  Relations  of  with 

Minister  Adams,  204  ff.,  211  ff. 
Paris  in  1860,  102  ff. 
Perkins,  F.  B.,  44-54  f. 
Perry,  Commodore,  61 
Peters,  John  P.,  Explorations  of,  62 
Place  Royale,  Sojourn  in  the,  102  ff. 
Pleasant  Hill,  Battle  at,  303 
Poker  in  Camp,  290 
Pontchartrain  Lake,  294 
Port  Hudson,  259  ff. 
Porter,  Admiral,  300  f. 
Postal  Currency,  226 
Postage-Stamps  for  Currency,  225 
Prague,  Visit  to,  142  ff. 


446 


Index 


Presidential     Election     in    Prison, 

394  f- 

Prime,  Irenasus,  61 
Protestant  Preaching  in  Paris,  108  f. 
Publishers  in  London,  1844-48,  8  ff. 
Punch,  London,  39  f.,  189 
Putnam,  G.  P.,  Writes  Description 

of  Retreat  from  Bull  Run,  188, 

222  ff. 

Putnam,  Henry,  2  f. 
Putnam,  Israel,  2 
Putnam,    Mary    Corinna,    51    fL, 

227  f.,  264  ff.,  285  f. 
Putnam,  Rufus,  2  f. 
Putnam,  Victorine  Haven,  47  ff. 

Quartermaster's    Department, 

Trouble  in  the,  239 
Quartermaster's  Methods,  333 

Ralston,  Colonel,  403  f. 

Rations  in  Libby  Prison,  393  f. 

Reade,  Charles,  213 

Reclus,  Elisee,  Saves  the  Louvre, 
103  ff. 

Re-enlistment  for  the  War,  280 

Red  River  Campaign,  The,  299  ff. 

Red  River  Dams,  310  ff. 

Regimental  court,  289  f.;  disci 
pline,  291  f. 

Richmond,  389  ff. 

Rose,  Colonel,  390 

Russell,  Cabot  J.,  89  ff.,  336 

Russell,  Lord  John,  212  ff. ;  Relations 
of,  with  Minister  Adams,  264  ff. 

Russell,  W.  H.,  1 88  f. 

Rutter,  Henry,  n  ff. 

Rutter,  J.  C.,  ii 

Rams  from  French  dockyards,  216 

Sabine  Cross  Roads,  Battle  at,  303  f . 

Savannah,  433  ff. 

Saxon  Switzerland,  Tramp  through, 

140  f. 

Schultz,  Jackson  S.,  230  f. 
Schonenberg,  Mrs.,  221  ff. 
Seibert,  Sergt.,  288  f. 
Seward,  W.  H.,  and  the  Affair  of 

the  Trent,  207  ff. 
Shaw,  Col.  Robt.  G.,  336 
Shenandoah  Valley,  The,  in  1864, 

344  ff. 

Shepard,  Rebecca,  344  f. 
Sheridan,  General,  363,  378  ff. 
Sherman,  General  W.  T.,  346  ff.,  401 
Ship  Island,  247 
Shreveport,  279  ff. 


Sickles,  General  Daniel  E.,  329 
Slidell,  Commissioner,  216  ff.,  343  f. 
Slid  ell    and    Mason,    Capture    of, 

262  ff. 

Smith,  Colonel,  of  Danville,  398  ff. 
Smith,  General  A.  J.,  300  ff. 
Smith,  General  Kirby,  270  ff. 
St.  Philip,  Fort,  249 
Stapleton,  in  1848,  21  ff. 
Staten  Island,  1848-52,  22  ff. 
Staunton,  385 

Steamships,  The  Earlier,  15  ff. 
Steele,  General,  299 
Stone,  Narcissa,  4 
Stone,  James  Kent,  184  f. 
Student  Fighting-Societies  in  Got- 

tingen,  178  ff. 
Supply-Ships  from  New  York  for 

Manchester,  219 
"Swamp  Angel,"  The,  420 
Swamps  of  Lower  Louisiana,  258  ff. 
Swan,  Frank,  421 

Taylor,  Bayard,  138  f. 

Taylor,  General  Dick,  260  ff. 

Teche,  The  Bayou,  262 

Terry,  David  D.,  232,  427 

Thackeray,  W.  M.,  45 

Th  iir inger wald ,    Tramp    th  rough , 

155  f- 

Times,  London,  38  ff.,  187  ff. 
Toothbrush,  The  Value  of  a,  in  1865, 

411 

Trent,  The  Affair  of  the,  202  ff. 
Trow,  George,  99  ff. 
Trow,  John  F.,  99 
.  Tunnel,  from  Danville,  400  ff. ;  from 

Libby,  390 
Turner,  Major,  398 
Tyng,  Dr.  Stephen  H.,  43 

Union  League  Club,  231  f. 

U.  S.  Five-Twenty  Bonds;  Seven- 
Thirty  Bonds,  Measures  for  the 
Sale  of,  130  ff. 

Vander  Weyde,  Henry,  375  ff. 
Vaux,  Calvert,  84 

Victoria,  Queen,  and  the  Affair  of 
the  Trent,  203  f.,  213 

Wagstaff,  Alfred,  71 
Wallace,  General  Lew,  338 
War  Bulletin,  A,  of  1862,  223 
Warner,  Susan,  26 
Washington,  George,  and  Irving,  59; 
as  Surveyor,  358 


Index 


447 


Washington,  Early's  Raid  on,  341  f. 

Weldon  R.  R.,  392 

Wells,  David  A.,  Writes  Our  Burden 

and  Our  Strength,  129  f. 
Williams,  Eleazar,  45  fL 
Wiley  &  Putnam,  4 
Wiley,  John,  4,  17  ff. 
Wilkes,  Capt.  John,  203  f. 
Willetts,  Surgeon,  238,  272 
Winder,  General,  392  f. 


Wohler,  Hofrath,  170  ff. 

Wood,    Fernando,    229;    The    Tri- 

Insula  of,  229  f . 
Wright,  General,  338,  363  f. 
Wright,  Gov.,  124  ff. 

Yellow  Fever,  Precautions  against, 

253 

Yonkers,  in  1854,  47  ff. 
Y.  M.  C.  A.,  Raises  Regiments,  231 


George   Palmer   Putnam 

Together  with  an  Account  of  the  Earlier  Years  of  the  Publishing 
House  Pounded  by  Him 

Octavo.      With  Frontispiece  in  Photogravure.     Net,  $2.50.     By  mail  $2.70 

This  volume  presents  a  record  of  the  career  of  a  representative 
American  publisher  and  is  submitted  also  as  a  contribution  to  the 
history  of  American  Literature  and  of  international  literary  relations. 
One  chapter  is  devoted  to  a  record  of  Mr.  Putnam's  work  in  behalf  of 
international  copyright  work  that  was  begun  as  far  back  as  1837, 
in  which  year  was  organized  the  first  of  the  long  series  of  copyright 
committees.  From  that  date  until  his  death  in  1872,  Mr.  Putnam 
was  the  Secretary,  and  as  a  rule,  the  working  man,  in  the  Executive 
Committee  of  each  successive  copyright  association.  The  narrative 
includes  reminiscences  of  life  in  London  in  the  earl}7-  forties,  and 
references  to  men  of  letters  and  other  persons  of  distinction  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic.  Among  the  people  with  whom  Mr.  Putnam  had 
personal  relations  may  be  mentioned  Louis  Napoleon,  Washington 
Irving,  Bayard  Taylor,  Fenimore  Cooper,  Nathaniel  Hawthorne, 
Charles  Sumner,  Sargeant  Talfourd,  Elisee  Reclus,  Fredrika  Bremer, 
Susan  Warner,  Longfellow,  Holmes,  Dana,  Emerson,  Curtis,  the 
alleged  Dauphin  (Louis  XVII),  Commodore  Perry,  Bryant,  Lincoln, 
and  many  other  noteworthy  characters  of  generations  that  have 
passed. 

A  Selection  from  a  long  Series  of  Reviews: 

George  Palmer  Putnam  was  a  man  of  such  lovable  character  that  the  memory  of 
him  glows  with  personal  affection  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  had  the  privilege  of 
knowing  him,  and  his  name  should  ever  remain  a  tradition  and  an  influence  for 
good  in  the  calling  of  publishing  and  of  bookselling.  The  Memoir  which  has  been 
prepared  with  filial  affection  by  his  eldest  son  is  worthy  of  both,  for  the  son  has 
succeeded  to  the  father  not  only  as  the  head  of  the  publishing  house,  but  hi  many 
good  causes,  notably  that  of  international  copyright,  in  which  the  elder  Putnam,  a 
man  of  wide  vision  and  far  foresight,  was  a  pioneer  and  a  leader. — R.  R.  BOWKER, 
Publishers'  Weekly. 

This  Memoir  of  a  man  who  left  a  notable  impression  on  the  life  of  New  York 
and  the  history  of  literature  in  this  country  includes  so  much  valuable  and  interesting 
material  as  to  prove  an  embarrassment  of  riches  for  the  reviewer  who  is  limited  as 
to  space.  The  personal  life  and  character  of  the  man  himself  possess  distinctive 
value.  His  Biography  shows  him  to  have  been  large-minded,  modest,  executive. 
His  public  spirit,  his  intellectual  integrity,  and  his  lovable  confidence  in  others  are 
traits  that  shine  out  from  the  narrative  and  that  give  a  charming  picture  of  the  man. 
The  work  of  the  editor  and  the  biographer  has  been  performed  with  thorough  good 
taste  and  dignity  .  .  .  and  the  book  takes  its  place  among  standard  biographies  of 
men  worthy  to  be  gratefully  remembered. — Christian  Register. 


A  Prisoner  of  War  in  Virginia 

(1864-5) 

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A  volume  that  will  long  survive  with  other  notable  records  of  personal  experience 
in  the  Civil  War.  The  historian  of  the  next,  or  even  of  some  later  century,  would 
find  this  an  indispensable  source-book.  .  .  .  There  are  details  in  Mr.  Putnam's 
modest  narrative  that  recall  nothing  more  vividly  than  certain  parts  of  the  famous 
seventh  chapter  of  the  "  History  of  the  Peloponnesian  War.  " — Literary  Digest. 


It  is  rarely  that  the  House  of  Putnam,  which  has  a  peculiarly  wide  and  varied 
output,  has  given  to  the  public  so  interesting  a  book.  The  experience  described 
was  extremely  unusual ;  there  are  now  living  few  men  who  passed  through  one  like  it, 
and  possibly  none  who  could  recount  it  in  so  satisfying  a  manner.  .  .  .  The  nar 
rative  betrays  no  faintest  trace  of  vindictive  feeling  or  even  of  resentment  that  would 
be  almost  inevitable.  One  gets  the  impression  that  this  is  due  not  to  the  softening 
influence  of  the  years,  but  rather  to  the  innate  fairness  and  kindliness  of  the  author 
.  .  .  It  is  well  for  the  great  mass  of  our  people,  to  whom  the  war  for  the  Union  is 
but  a  matter  of  written  history,  to  realize,  so  far  as  a  tale  like  this  can  make  them 
realize,  that  but  for  the  service  of  men  like  Major  Putnam  there  would  have  been 
no  country  such  as  ours  now  is  in  which  to  live  in  peace  and  security. — EDWARD 
GARY,  New  York  Times. 


Major  Putnam  has  rendered  a  genuine  service  in  recounting  in  this  clear,  straight 
forward,  unvarnished  narrative,  his  own  experiences  in  Libby  and  in  Danville  prisons. 
.  .  A  narrative  such  as  this,  written  by  a  man  of  the  Major's  literary  power  and 
high  standing,  after  all  feeling  of  personal  resentment  is  at  an  end,  becomes  at  once 
authoritative  and  unimpeachable. — N.  Y.  Evening  Post. 


Major  Putnam  has  lived  more  lives  than  one.  ...  As  a  young  officer  in  his  teens, 
his  gallantry  got  him  into  trouble  and  landed  him  in  Libby  prison.  His  endurance, 
will  power,  and  sagacity  carried  him  through  murderous  hardships,  which  are  hard 
for  us  of  a  later  generation  to  appreciate.  His  intellectual  activities  since  the  great 
war  have  made  his  name  known  wherever  books  are  read.  He  has  helped  to  make 
history  and  to  tell  it.  In  both  he  has  shown  the  indispensable  traits  of  a  hero ; 
modesty  and  temperate  statement.  His  style  is  as  clear  as  his  deeds  were  brave. 
.  .  .  There  is  something  in  this  narrative  so  manly,  straightforward,  fair,  and  reason 
able  that  a  stranger  reading  it  would  on  occasion  vote  him  into  his  pet  club  without 
"  looking  him  up.  "  The  Major  puts  his  touches  of  humor  always  in  the  right 
place.  In  other  words,  he  is  logical,  tactful,  and  human. — DR.  R.  H.  BELL  in  the 
American  Practitioner. 


Abraham   Lincoln 

The  People's  Leader  in  the  Struggle  for  National  Existence 

With  the  above  is  included  the  speech  delivered  by  Lincoln  in 
New  York,  February  27,  1860;  with  an  introduction  by  Charles  C. 
Nott,  late  Chief  Justice  of  the  Court  of  Claims,  and  annotations  by 
Judge  Nott  and  by  Cephas  Brainerd,  of  the  New  York  Bar. 

With  frontispiece  reproduced  in  photogravure  from  the  portrait 
by  Marshall. 

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I  shall  preserve  this  volume  as  one  of  the  most  treasured  of  those  relating  to  my 
father.  .  .  .  Your  narrative  is  full  of  interest  and  of  freshness  and  I  have  read 
it  throughout  with  the  greatest  pleasure. — ROBERT  LINCOLN. 


I  have  read  with  much  interest  your  account  of  the  life  of  Lincoln  and  of  the  issues 
in  which  Lincoln  was  leader.  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  ability  to  handle  the 
pen  as  effectively  as  the  sword. — JOHN  BIGELOW. 


This  volume  has  qualities  of  its  own,  which  make  it  stand  out  among  the  many 
books  that  have  been  called  forth  by  the  Lincoln  Centenary.  The  author's  recol 
lections  go  back  to  the  critical  time  that  preceded  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War. 
.  .  .  Now,  when  nearly  half  a  century  has  passed,  Mr.  Putnam  states  with  admirable 
clearness,  his  estimate  of  the  great  President  and  of  his  policy.  .  .  .  The  personal 
reminiscences  of  the  author  constitute  a  special  interest  for  the  book.  It  is  impos 
sible,  even  after  all  these  years,  to  read  with  dry  eyes  the  story  of  the  ten  thousand 
veterans  who  were  sobbing  together  on  receiving  the  news  of  the  death  of  the  great 
Captain. — London  Spectator. 


George  H.  Putnam  is  one  of  the  few  publishers  who  is  nearly  as  well  known  as 
an  author.  ...  As  his  previous  books  have  shown,  he  knows  how  to  write  with 
vigor  and  effect.  .  .  .  This  book  has  a  special  interest  in  presenting  personal 
experiences  of  the  War  and  possesses  also  a  unique  value  in  presenting  the 
revised  text  of  Lincoln's  famous  Cooper  Union  Address  with  an  introduction  and 
notes  on  the  constitutional  issues  of  the  War.  Mr.  Putnam'j  vivid  and  vigorous 
appreciation  of  the  great  Leader  and  his  clearly  presented  narrative  of  the  events 
of  the  time  make,  with  the  record  of  this  great  speech,  a  volume  of  exceptional  value 
and  interest. — London  Bookseller. 


The  Censorship  of  the  Church  of  Rome 
and  Its  Influence  upon  the  Produc 
tion  and  the  Distribution  of 
Literature 

A   Study   of    the   History   of   the   Prohibitory    and    Expurgatory 

Indexes,  together  with  some  Consideration  of  the  Effects  of 

Protestant  Censorship  and  of  Censorship  by  the  State 

Two  volumes.     5°.     Uniform  with  "Books  and  Their  Makers." 
Per  Volume,  net,  $2.50 

This  treatise  presents  a  schedule  of  the  Indexes  issued  by  the  Church,  together 
with  a  list  of  the  more  important  of  the  decrees,  edicts,  prohibitions,  and  briefs 
having  to  do  with  the  prohibition  of  specific  books,  from,  the  time  of  Gelasius  I., 
567  A.D.,  to  the  issue  in  1900  of  the  latest  Index  of  the  Church  under  Leo  XIII.  The 
author  has  had  an  opportunity  of  making  a  personal  examination  of  the  larger  number 
of  the  Indexes  which  are  described  in  his  schedule,  and  he  presents,  under  the 
descriptive  titles  of  the  more  important  of  these  Indexes,  a  specification  of  the  special 
character  of  the  constitution  and  regulations  contained  in  each,  and  a  selection  of 
titles  of  the  more  important  of  the  books  condemned.  He  has  attempted  to  indicate 
the  influence  exerted  by  the  Censorship  of  the  Church  on  the  undertakings  of  authors, 
professors,  publishers,  and  booksellers  in  each  one  of  the  European  States  in  which 
the  regulations  of  the  Index  came  into  force.  In  the  final  chapter  is  presented  a 
summary  of  the  conclusions  reached  by  certain  representative  Catholics  of  to-day 
in  regard  to  the  present  literary  policy  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 

Dr.  Putnam  is  one  of  the  most  wonderful  men  in  America.  He  was  a  soldier  in 
the  Civil  War.  He  has  been  a  leading  publisher  for  more  than  a  generation.  To 
him  more  than  any  other  man  is  due  the  measure  of  American  copyright  that  we  now 
enjoy.  The  marvel  is  that  with  all  his  business  and  public  work,  Dr.  Putnam  has 
found  time  to  make  himself  a  most  thorough  and  accurate  scholar.  The  present 
volume  treats  of  a  subject  that  is  largely  misunderstood,  and  that  is  of  first  importance 
in  the  history  of  literature  and  of  the  Church.  The  author  writes  in  an  entirely 
dispassionate  spirit. — London  Chronicle. 

In  this  treatise,  Dr.  Putnam  makes  adequate  recognition  of  the  enormous  diffi 
culties  under  which  the  authorities  of  the  Church  labored  in  carrying  on  their 
system  of  censorship.  .  .  .  The  author  is  not  in  the  least  bigoted  and  is  never 
unfair.  .  .  .  His  volumes  are  most  interesting  and  are  deserving  of  careful  study. 

Catholic  Times. 

> 

Scholarship  exact  and  judicial  imparts  rare  distinction  to  the  work  by  George 
Haven  Putnam  on  the  Censorship  of  the  Church  of  Rome. — Philadelphia  Press. 


Books  and  Their  Makers  During  the 
Middle  Ages 

A  Study  of  the  Conditions  of  the  Production  and  Distribution  of 

Literature  from  the  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  to 

the  Close  of  the  Seventeenth  Century 

In  Two  Volumes,  8°.      (Sold  Separately.)      Each,  $2.50 

It  is  seldom  that  such  wide  learning,  such  historical  grasp  and  insight,  have  been 
employed  in  the  service  of  the  history  of  literary  production. — Atlantic  Monthly. 

For  all  persons  of  literary  tastes,  for  all  librarians  and  collectors,  for  all  authors 
and  publishers,  for  all  readers  who  would  like  to  follow  the  evolution  of  thought  into 
manuscript,  and  of  manuscripts  into  books,  and  of  books  into  literature,  and  of 
literature  into  a  profession  and  a  business,  the  work  will  have  an  irresistible  fascina 
tion.  The  amount  of  original  research  that  has  gone  into  it  is  simply  enormous,  and 
the  materials  have  been  most  thoroughly  assimilated  and  methodically  presented. 

Literary  World. 

Mr.  Putnam  has  given  the  book-loving  world  one  of  the  most  interesting  and 
valuable  bibliographical  treatises  of  the  decade.  ...  It  is  a  noble  work,  and  its 
value  to  the  literary  knowledge  of  the  world  can  hardly  be  estimated  too  highly. 

N.  Y.  World. 


Authors  and  Their  Public  in  Ancient 

Times 

A  Sketch  of  Literary  Conditions  and  of  the  Relations   with  the 

Public  of  Literary  Producers,  from  the  Earliest  Times 

to  the  Pall  of  the  Roman  Empire 

Second  Edition,  Revised,   12°,  Gilt  Top.     $150 

The  Knickerbocker  Press  appears  almost  at  its  best  in  the  delicately  simple  and 
yet  attractive  form  which  it  has  given  to  this  work,  wherein  the  chief  of  a  celebrated 
publishing  house  sketches  the  gradual  evolution  of  the  idea  of  literary  property.  .  .  . 
The  book  abounds  in  information,  is  written  in  a  delightfully  succinct  and  agreeable 
manner,  with  apt  comparisons  that  are  often  humorous,  and  with  scrupulous  exact 
ness  to  statement,  and  without  a  sign  of  partiality  either  from  an  author's  or  a 
publisher's  point  of  view. — New  York  Times. 

A  most  instructive  book  for  the  thoughtful  and  curious  reader.  .  .  .  The  author's 
account  of  the  literary  development  of  Greece  is  evidence  of  careful  investigation 
and  of  scholarly  judgment.  Mr.  Putnam  writes  in  a  way  to  instruct  a  scholar  and 
to  interest  the  general  reader. — Philadelphia  Press. 


The  Question  of  Copyright 

Comprising  the  Text  of  the  Copyright  Law  of  the  United  States, 
and  a  Summary  of  the  Copyright  Laws  in  Force  in  the  Chief 
Countries  of  the  World;  together  with  a  Sketch  of  the  Contest 
in  the  United  States,  1837-1891,  in  Behalf  of  Internationa! 
Copyright,  and  Certain  Papers  on  the  Development  of  the 
Conception  of  Literary  Property  and  on  the  Results  of  the 
American  Law  of  1891. 

Second  Edition,  Revised,  with  Additions,  and  with  the  Record  of  Legislation 
Brought  down  to  March,   1896.     8°,  Gilt  Top,  $1.75 

A  perfect  arsenal  of  facts  and  arguments,  carefully  elaborated  and  very  effectively 
presented.  .  .  .  Altogether  it  constitutes  an  extremely  valuable  history  of  the 
development  of  a  very  intricate  right  of  property,  and  it  is  as  interesting  as  it  is 
valuable. — N.  Y.  Nation. 

A  work  of  exceptional  value  for  authors  and  booksellers,  and  for  all  interested  in 
the  history  and  status  of  literary  property. — Christian  Register. 

Until  the  new  Copyright  law  has  been  in  operation  for  some  time,  constant  re 
course  must  be  had  to  this  workmanlike  volume. — The  Critic. 


The  Little   Gingerbread  Man 

With  Pictures  and  Decorations  in  Color  by 

Robert  Qaston  Herbert 

Cr.  8°.     $1.25.     By  mail,  $1.40 

Full  of  robust  fun,  of  wonder-compelling  adventure,  of  quaint  mishap,  of  lively 
incident,  it  presents  a  combination  of  elements  that  has  proved  irresistible  to  the 
juvenile  reader.  The  illustrations  are  just  what  will  delight  a  child's  fancy. 


The  Artificial  Mother 

A  Marital  Fantasy 

With  6  Illustrations  by  Van  Deusen.      12°.     75  cents 

This  dream  of  a  "family  man"  is  illustrated  so  cleverly  that  the  pictures  alone 
would  make  the  book  popular.  The  illustrations  and  text  of  the  book  have  so  much 
genuine  humor  that  "no  family  can  afford  to  be  without  it,  "  as  they  say  of  the  baby 
jumper. — N.  Y.  Observer. 


Authors   and   Publishers 

A  MANUAL  OF  SUGGESTIONS  FOR  BEGINNERS  IN 
LITERATURE 

Comprising  a  Description  of  Publishing  Methods  and  Arrange, 
ments,  Directions  for  the  Preparation  of  Manuscript  for  the 
Press,  Explanations  of  the  Details  of  Book.Manufacturing, 
Instructions  for  Proof  .Reading,  Specimens  of  Typography, 
the  Text  of  the  United  States  Copyright  Law,  and  Informa 
tion  Concerning  International  Copyrights,  together  with 
General  Hints  for  Authors. 

By  Q.  H.  P,  and  J.  B.  P. 

Seventh  Edition,  Re-written  with  Additional  Material 
8°,  Gilt  Top,  net,  $1.75 


The  continued  interest  that  has  been  expressed  in  this  book  on  the  part  of  the 
general  public  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  it  presents  with  full  authority  and  in  the 
most  lucid  manner  information  of  practical  value,  and  that  it  would  be  difficult  to 
secure  elsewhere ;  while  the  element  of  dryness  which  so  frequently  characterizes 
manuals  of  information  is  here  wholly  eliminated.  .  .  .  The  volume  in  its  entirety 
is  so  practical,  so  clear,  and  so  punctilious  that  it  should  prove  most  enlightening 
and  helpful  to  the  authors  consulting  it. — Providence  Journal. 


By  George  Haven  Putnam 


A  Memoir  of  George  Palmer  Putnam 

A  Prisoner  of  War  in  Virginia  (1864-5) 

Abraham  Lincoln 

The  Censorship  of  the  Church  of  Rome 

Books  and  Their  Makers  during  the  Middle  Ages 

Authors  and  Their  Public  in  Ancient  Times 

The  Question  of  Copyright 

The  Little  Gingerbread  Man 

The  Artificial  Mother 

Authors  and  Publishers 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

RENEWED  BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO  IMMEDIATE 
RECALL 


LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-50m-8,'63(D9954s4)458 


______ 

Putnam,  G.H. 
Memories  of 


youth, 


Bias.  9 

P98 
A3 


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